A.     JAGER 


1908 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 


Gl  FT    OF 


.a. 


a-iWf 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/emigrantlifeexpeOOjagericf 


WHAT  THE   PAPERS  SAY. 


The  PACIFIC  OUTLOOK,  the  most  widely  circulated  and  popu- 
lar weekly  paper  in  Southern  California,  says: 

"Since  our  greatly-beloved  and  worldwide  honored  Mark  Twain, 
the  prince  of  American  humorists,  wrote  the  books  which  will 
live  in  American  literature  centuries  after  hundreds  of  his  con- 
temporaries shall  have  been  forgotten — books  which  have  made 
thousands  of  gloomy  hearts  cheerful — we  have  not  read  a  book 
which  strikes  a  chord  so  closely  in  unison  with  his  as  'The  Emi- 
grant,' being  the  life,  experience  and  humorous  adventures  of 
Adolph  Jager.  This  book  is  an  autobiography.  But  unlike  most 
biographical  works  it  vibrates  with  human  interest  from  cover 
to  cover.  The  manuscript  has  passed  through  the  hands  of  the 
writer,  who  prophesies  for  the  work  a  strong  demand." 


The  LOS  ANGELES  EVENING  EXPRESS,  the  oldest  and 
mostly  read  evening  paper  in  Southern  California,  says: 

"A.  Jager  has  written  a  book  of  travels  and  adventures  which 
is  now  offered  to  the  public.  The  author  is  a  German  with  a 
keen  sense  of  humor,  who  ha.s  traveled  over  the  greater  portion 
of  the  civilized  world,  and  after  accumulating  a  fair  share  of  the 
world's  goods,  has  come  to  Southern  California  to  make  his 
home. 

"Mr.  Jager  has  found  enough  excitement  during  his  career,  in- 
cluding a  delightful  little  romance,  to  fill  his  book  without  hav- 
ing to  resort  to  fiction.  He  gives  some  interesting  facts  coh- 
ceraing  Australia,  and  the  book  is  very  interesting  reading  from 
beginning  to  end." 


The  LOS  ANGELES  HERALD,  the  oldest  Morning  paper  in 
Los  Angeles,  says: 

"Not  since  the  writings  of  the  great  American  humorist,  Mark 
Twain,  appeared  has  there  any  book  come  under  our  observation 
that  has  such  ouaiht  humor  and  human  inteirest  tales  than  'The 
Emigrant,'  by  A.  Jager. 

"The  book  is  a  resuimo  of  incidents  and  facts  in  the  life  of  Mr. 
Jager,  from  his  boyhood  up,  and  the  tnie-to-life  yams  related 
make  the  book  interesting  readimg  from  cover  to  cover." 


THE  EMIGRANT 


The  Life,  Experience  and  Humorous  Ad- 
ventures  of  A.  Jager,  Emigrant  to 
South    America  in    1882,    to 
Austrah'a  in  1885,  and 
to  California  in 
1908 


By  A.  JAGER 


Illustrated 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA    PRINTING    COMPANY 
J  908 


a 


r 


Copyrighted,  1908  in  United  States 

Copyright  applied  for 

England         Australia         New  Zealand 

by  A.  Jager 


All  rights  reserved 


INDEX 


172920 


/ 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 
IN  THE  OLD  LAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE. 

My    Birthplace 15 

CHAPTER  II. 
Infancy— A  German  Infant— School      .      .      .      .      20 

CHAPTER  III. 
Boyhood.      .      .         16 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Boyhood  Continued— Schooldays      .       ....      33 

CHAPTER  V. 
Schooldays  Continued .      43 

CHAPTER    VI. 
The  Night- Watch 47 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Skull  and  Crossbones  Theatre       ...       50 


k 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

PAGE. 

An  Atrocious  Murder— German  Girls— And  a  Ro- 
mantic EpiscttJE 60 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Troubles,  Motherless,  An  Apparition,  More  Boy- 
ish Pranks 64 

CHAPTER  X. 
A  Great  Fire— An  Old  Time  Fire-Brigade.      ...      69 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Matrimonial:  My  Stfpfathp:r  Victimised.      ...      72 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Life  With  a  Stepmother 79 

CHAPTER    XIII. 
A  Golden  Opportunity  Lost 83 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Socialistic,  Domestic,  and  Otherwise 86 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Launched  and  Rigged 89 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
My  First  Cruise— Apprenticeship 95 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
A  Few  War  Notes. ,      ,      .      101 


yi 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

PAGE. 

The  Law  Befriends  Me 103 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  Pleasant  Time— A  First-Rate  Master.      .      .      .      106 

CHAPTER  XX. 
''Love's  Young  Dream.'' 110 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
From  Which  Point  of  ViewF 117 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
A  Supernatural  Incident 123 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
A  Sailor  Boy  :  Repents  In  Time 125 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
A  RoijLicking  Time 127 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
''The  Course  Of  T^ue  Love." 130 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 
Military  Service 135 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 
Illness,  Prodigality,  And  Other  Things,     ,     ,     ,     139 

vii 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

PAGE. 

Two  OR  Three  Incidents— An  Accident.      .      .      .     142 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 
I  Meet  My  Fate. 147 

CHAPTER    XXX. 
On  Courtship  Perils  and  My  Marriage  .        .      154 

CHAPTER    XXXI. 
''An  Elysium  On  Earth/'      .......      158 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 
Sunday  Disasters:   I  Gain  Experience.      .      .      .      161 

CHAPTER  XXXIIl. 
A  Favorite  German  Sport 168 


viii 


PART  II 
CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

PAjGE. 

My  First  Emigration,  and  Life  as  a  Sah^or.      .      .      175 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
My  Discreditable  Father-in-law.      .....      178 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
My  First  Sea  Voyage 184 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Brazil  at  Last— First  Impressions.      .      .      .      .      190 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
I  Help  a  Smuggler. 196 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
Our  Destination— Jionville— Roughing  It.      .      .      199 

CHAPTER  XL. 

My  Father-in-law  and  a  Young  Widow.      .      ,      .      203 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
Fortune  Making  ( ? )  And  Adventures.      .      .      .      205 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

A  Hunting  Expedition— An  Old  German's  Yarn— 

And  a  Ludicrous  IVIishap        ....        209 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

PAGE. 

Poor  Employment;  A  Jollification;  Fabeweix 

TO  JlONVILLE 219 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

I  Go  TO  San  Paulo  and  to  a  Queer  Hospital       .      .  223 

CHAPTER  XLV. 
My  Return  Home— A  Mask  Ball 227 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 
Consuming  Fires. 235 

CHAPTER  XL VII. 
Life  as  a  Ship's  Engineer 239 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Sailor  Politicians,  and  the  Cook's  Yarn  About 

A  Confidence  Trick 243 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 
An  Idyl:  A  Spanish '^Flying  Dutchman.''.      .      .      249 

CHAPTER  L. 

Two  Incidents— A  Narrow  Escape,  and  *'Hot 

Toddy"  not  always  Welcome  to  a  Sailor      .    253 


¥ 


PART  III 
MY  SECOND  AND  SUCCESSFUL  EMIGRATION. 

CHAPTER  LI. 

PAGE. 

On  Shore  Again— A  Finger  Post  To  Success.      .   •  .     257 

CHAPTER  LII. 
Departure:    A  Peculiar  Accident 261 

CHAPTER  LIII. 
Voyage  Notes.      ...  * 265 

CHAPTER  LIV. 
A  Terrific  Storm 271 

CHAPTER  LY. 

Some  Shipmates-- A  Clergyman's  Adventure  With 

Some  Sausages 273 

CHAPTER  LVI. 

The  New  "Gold  Land"  at  Last— Adelaide,  Mel- 

bournp:,  Hobart 279 

CHAPTER  LVII. 
Looking  For  A  Start 285 

CHAPTER  LVIII. 
A  ''General''  Wanted 289 

xi 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

PAGE. 

Milking  a  Cow— And  a  German  Salesman.      .      .      293 

CHAPTER  LX. 
In  Business  For  Myself 299 

CHAPTER  LXI. 

I  Send  for  my  wife,  go  to  IVIeet  Her,  and  Get 

One  or  Two  Surprises 301 

.CHAPTER  LXII. 

Speculations— Business  Principles 305 

CHAPTER  LXIII. 
A  Bad  Night,  and  a  Comic  Tragedy 309 

CHAPTER  LXIV. 

A  Tale  Of  Music,  Beer,  and  an  ''Iron  Cross.''      .      315 

CHAPTER  LXV. 

I  Become  an  Hotel-keeper— Experiences.       .       .       319 

CHAPTER  LXyi. 
A  Faithless  Wife 323 

CHAPTER  LXYII. 
''A  Dead  Sea  Apple.'' 329 

CHAPTER  LXVIII. 
I  Carry  £800  In  Gold  From  Tasmania  to  Sydney.     .     333 

xii 


CHAPTER  LXIX. 

PAGE. 

My  Wife  Goes  Back  to  GebmxVny  :  Our  Parting.      .     337 

CHAPTER  LXX. 

Loneliness  Again:   A  Trip  to  Sydney.      .      .      .      339 

CHAPTER  LXXI. 
Unprofitable  Venture— Losses 345 

CHAPTERLXXII. 

Startling  Revelations;  the  End  of  My  First 

Marriage 347 

CHAPTER  LXXIII. 
Experiences— On  the  Road  to  Prosperity      .        .    353 

CHAPTER  LXXIV. 
A  Perilous  Adventure,  and  My  First  Horse  Deal.    359 

CHAPTER  LXXV. 
More  Bush  Life— An  Australian  ^'Sam  Slick.      .      369 

CHAPTER  LXXVI. 
A  Few  Short  Facts.      . 375 

CHAPTER  LXXVII. 
Another  Love  Affair:    Not  Mine 377 

CHAPTER  LXXVni. 
A  Young  Scapegrace 381 


xiii 


CHAPTER  LXXIX. 

,       •  PAGE. 

My  Methods 387 

CHAPTER  LXXX. 

How  I  Was  Cured  of  Consumption  and  Bronchitis.     393 

CHAPTER  LXXXI. 

Facts  About  Southern  California        .        .        .      399 


XIV 


\    UNIVERSITY 

PREFACE 


To  the  Public: 

Broadly  speaking,  the  reader  of  a  booJv  seeks,  it  may  be 
presumed,  either  amusement  or  knowledge  that  may  be 
turned  to  profitable  use  personally.  The  author  of  this 
book  hopes  that  a  fair  measure  of  both  will  be  found  by 
many  people  who  may  read  it. 

After  a  fairly  stirring,  diversified  and  adventurous  life 
in  pursuit  of  prosperity,  the  'Author,  while  still  in  his 
prime,  several  years  ago  achieved  his  object  and  retired 
from  bu.sinesi;. 

Of  two  or  three  primary  aims  of  this  effort  the  first  is 
to  encourage  and  stimulate  as  many  as  possible  of  his  fel- 
low-men in  various  countries  to  such  enterprise  and  reso- 
lute effort,  well  directed,  as  will  bring  them  much  increased 
prosperity  and,  he  trust,  all  around  benefits.  At  the  same 
time  he  also  hopes  the  book  will  afford  interest  and  amuse- 
ment in  itself,  of  such  a  nature  (though  strictly  acc%vrat$ 
as  to  facts)  as  are  specially  provided  by  books  of  mere  fic- 
tion and  those  of  humor. 

It  embodies  actual  real-life  occurrences,  travels  and  ad- 
ventures; the  lights  and  shades  of  a  genuine  love-story  or 
stories  (as  also  a  few  other  love-affairs) ;  humorous  inci- 
dents and  yarns ;  and,  not  least  a  solid  practical  lesson  al- 
most throughout  on  working  and  forcing  one's  way  from 
very  poor  circumstances  up  to  a  fare  share  of  wealth,  and 
indicating  how  many  thousands  of  others  may  do  fully  aa 
"\vell  or  even  better— with  every  hint,  information  and  ad- 


vice  possible  in  the  space  available.  Such  a  book,  though 
mainly  life-history  of  a  mere  working-man— and  as  such  at 
an  initial  disadvantage  as  against  that  of  a  notable  person- 
age—should it  appear  to  the  author,  commend  itself  to  a 
great  number  of  people.  As  to  another  primary  motive; 
the  author  is  not  of  that  class  of  men  often  adverted  to  by 
newspapers  as  coming  to  other  countries,  doing  well,  and 
then  going  away  with  little  or  nothing  to  say  in  favor  of  the 
land  where  they  filled  their  pockets.  On  the  contrary,  he  has 
gradually  acquired  a  great  interest  in  and  no  little  attach- 
ment towards  the  country  he  has  lived  so  long  and  has  made 
so  many  kind  friends,  and  as  some  little  return— the  best 
he  can  see  in  his  power— for  what  Australia  has  done  for 
him,  he  desires  to  give  effect  to  an  idea  which  struck  him 
years  ago  that  by  publishing  his  life  and  experiences  he 
might  do  his  humble  share  in  inducing  intending  emigrants 
to  select  Australia  as  their  future  home  or  field  of  enter- 
prise. 

Coming  as  he  did  from  a  densely  inhabited  part  of 
Europe,  he  could  not  help  noticing  in  his  travels  in  the  Aus- 
tralian states  that  they  were  sparely  populated.  Vividly  re- 
membering, too,  the  everywhere  swarming  guns  and  bayo- 
nets of  his  native  land  and  of  her  neighbors,  it  most  forcibly 
struck  him  (especially  after  the  China- Japanese  and  Russo- 
Japanese  wars  as  nearly  everybody  here  must  have  been 
struck)  how  easy  it  would  be  for  the  teeming  millions  of 
Eastern  Asia,  when  provided  with  European  weapons  and 
training  to  overrun  that  continent,  so  thinly  inhabited— 
probably  not  more  than  one  adult  male  to  defend  at  least 
four  square  miles! 

A  far  larger  population  will  soon  be  necessary  even  for 
mere  defensive  purposes ;  it  is  fully  a^  necessary  as  a  means 
of  general  prosperity,  and  is  recognized  throughout   Aus- 


tralia  as  one  of  the  first  objects  of  statesmanship.  The 
question  of  today  there  is  an  immigration  scheme  on  a  large 
scale.    Land  users  will  be  especially  welcomed. 

As  the  author  knows  from  experience  that  official  pam- 
phlets are  seldom  read,  it  occurred  to  him  that  a  book  such 
as  this  might  attract  attention  to  and  interest  in  that  new 
land— so  little  known  in  the  older  countries. 

With  the  object  of  avoiding  the  slightest  offense  or  an- 
noyance to  anybody,  all  personal  names  have  been 
changed  and  certain  other  precautions  taken.  It 
may  be  added  that  it  was  necessary  in  giving  the  author's 
life  to  be  duly  candid— to  speak  as  to  a  confidential  friend 
— hence  one  reason  and  plea  for  the  insertion  of  a  few  facts 
that  some  might  think  unnecessary— but  without  which 
point,  much  interest  and  even  public  utility  might  have 
been  lost. 

The  Author, 
Melbourne,  Australia,  February,  1907. 


PART   I 


YOURS  TRULY.  A.  JAGER. 


ff  OF  THE      ^ 

(  Oniversity 


CHAPTER  I. 

MY  BIRTHPLACE. 

"To  all  the  world  I  give  my  hand, 
My  heart — I  give  to  my  native  land, 
I  seek  her  good,  her  glory; 
I  honor  every  nation's  name. 
Respect  their  virtue  and  their  fame. 
But  I  love  the  land  that  bore  me." 

' '  One  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin, ' '  says 
an  English  great  philosopher-poet;  not  that  there  is  oiily 
one  such  touch  of  nature — there  are,  in  fact,  many  common 
to  us  all,  though,  to  avoid  being  tiresome,  we  need  not  par- 
ticularize. One  instance  only — to  each,  memory  has  its 
fascinations,  its  roseate  glamour,  more  especially  memories 
of  the  halcyon  days  of  youth.  Have  we  not  all  vivid  men- 
tal impressions  of  sunny  hours,  and  pleasant  scenes,  and 
fragrant  perfumes,  and  joyous  doings,  in  times  when  the 
world  to  us  was  fresh  and  beautiful  and  a  fairy  wonder- 
land? No  matter  in  what  land,  the  sun  has  shone  on  all 
alike;  everywhere  the  sky  has  been  gloriously  blue,  or 
equally  glorious  with  spring  and  summer  clouds;  in  every 
land  grass,  and  trees,  and  flowers  beautify  the  face  of  Na- 
ture more  or  less;  waters  shimmer  and  sparkle  to  coolly 
lave  youthful  feet,  to  tempt  the  thirsty  mouth  with  de- 
licious refreshing  draughts,  or  to  afford  luxurious  immer- 
sion and  natatorial  pleasure.  Youth  is  happy  almost  any- 
where, for  is  it  not  itself  a  joy? 

Come  with  me  to  my  boyhood's  home,  and  share  in  my 
frolics,  adventures,  and  even  in  some  of  my  boyish  troubles ; 
you  should  have  a  real  good  time  if  we  could  but  go 
through  those  days  again  together.  I  must  first  give  you 
some  idea  of  the  place  itself. 

From  the  wild,  romantic  ''Giant  Mountains"  between 
Austria  and  Germany  flow  many  streams  which  gradually 
join  in  one  main  river — the  Elbe.  Passing  through  forest 
and  moorland  this  beautiful  rivel*  finds  its  way  into  the  fer- 

15 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

tile  valleys  and  plains  of  Germany,  ever  growing  in  volume 
by  the  addition  of  numerous  tributaries,  and  its  whole 
course  and  basin  a  mass  of  picturesque  rural  scenery,  rich- 
ly encrusted  with  a  multitude  of  prosperous  villages  and 
towns,  and  many  large  cities.  The  region  is  one  of  the 
finest  and  most  famous  in  the  world ;  it  was  the  chief  cradle 
of  your  British  race.  In  the  last  ninety  miles  of  its 
course  before  reaching  the  North  Sea,  the  Elbe  gradually 
widens  into  a  noble  estuary  of  great  width;  its  shores  ex- 
hibiting all  the  magnificence  and  advantages  that  civiliza- 
tion and  prosperity  can  bestow.  On  the  northern  bank 
are  the  great  seaports  of  Hamburg  and  Altona,  very  near 
neighbors,  and  for  many  miles  this  bank  is  here  bordered 
by  a  continuous  mass  of  shipping  from  all  countries,  the 
masts  and  spars  of  which  suggest  a  winding  belt  of  pine 
plantation;  while  behind  them  rises  gradually  a  seem- 
ingly interminable  mass  of  buildings  of  all  varieties  and 
ages.  Thickly  interspersed  are  a  great  number  of  stately 
edifices  and  towering  spires,  and  from  myriad  chimneys 
and  funnels  of  every  type  ascend  plumes  of  smoke  to  form 
the  usual  canopy  of  every  huge  city.  The  commingled 
rattling,  roaring,  whirring,  whistling,  and  multitudinous 
other  sounds  which  combine  in  the  diapason  from  every 
vast  camp  of  industry  and  commerce  almost  deafen  the 
ear;  and  river  and  land  are  alive,  the  one  with  steamers 
and  craft  of  all  kinds,  the  other  with  incessant  trains  and 
trams— everything  that  goes  on  wheels,  and  nearly  every- 
thing that  goes  on  feet,  crutches,  or  anything  else. 

West  of  Altona,  and  four  or  five  miles  from  Hamburg 
itself,  is  the  outlying  village  of  Ottensen.  It  is  about  one 
and  a  half  miles,  perhaps,  inland  from  the  river-side — a 
quaint,  old-fashioned  place  it  is,  or  was  as  I  remember  it, 
and  there  it  has  rather  lazily  stood  for  centuries,  no  doubt. 
It  was,  in  my  boyhood,  a  queer  jumble  of  buildings,  most- 
ly of  brick  and  of  ancient  patterns,  with  steep  red-tile 
roofs  and  projecting  windows;  but  here  and  there  were  a 
few  farm-house-like  cottages  with  straw-thatched  roofs. 
The  latter  were  .probably  the  original  nucleus  of  the  vil- 
lage, when  it  consisted  of  a  group  of  small  farms,  some 
of  which  still  sturdily  retained  much    of  their    farm-like 

16 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

character  and  accessories— a  veritable  '*rus  in  urbe."  The 
former,  the  tiled -roof  brick  edifices,  were  doubtless  either 
the  result  of  the  domestic  ambitions  of  some  of  the  more 
prosperous  earlier  inhabitants  of  these  little  farm  houses, 
of  the  desire  to  provide  new  home-nests  on  the  family 
homestead  for  the  sons  and  daughters  as  they  each  settled 
in  marriage;  or  else  of  the  gradual  sediment  of  rural 
residences  and  small  business  places  from  the  advancing 
tide  of  civilization  and  speculation  which  spread  from  the 
neighboring  cities  of  Altona  and  Hamburg.  Growing  in 
some  such  desultory  fashion,  the  village  of  Ottensen  had 
become  a  clump  of  architectural  and  municipal  irregular- 
ity, though  picturesque  in  mass  and  in  many  of  its  de- 
tails. It  contained  about  five  thousand  inhabitants,  as  of- 
ficially stated.  Some  of  its  side  streets  were  but  narrow 
lanes  with  no  footpaths;  small  fields  or  paddocks  still  sur- 
vived here  and  there;  and  on  the  northwestern  side  of  the 
village  was  a  small  lake,  or  very  large  pond,  of  water— a 
great  convenience  to  surrounding  farmers,  and  a  delight- 
ful playing  resort  for  boys.  There  were  no  shops  worth 
mentioning,  only  a  few  very  small  nondescript  stores, 
where  children  could  buy  such  little  indulgences  as  lollies, 
nuts,  and  various  trifles  in  the  way  of  toys  or  school 
requisites,  and  their  elders  might  in  an  emergency  obtain 
some  little  domestic  or  personal  necessity— such,  for  in- 
stance, as  needles,  pins,  cotton,  tape,  pipes  for  the  men, 
and  perhaps  an  occasional  loaf  of  bread,  candles,  bacon, 
and  other  similar  sundries.  There  was  not  even  a  cob- 
bler's shop;  for  though,  naturally,  there  was  the  indispen- 
sable functionary  himself,  he  was  so  well  known  that  he 
needed  no  window  display,  but  carried  out  his  share  of 
catering  for  the  public  needs  in  his  private,  if  humble, 
drawing-room— for  such  it  was  entitled  to  be  called,  see- 
ing that  it  was  his  reception  room  for  his  numerous  visi- 
tors and  an  arena  of  local  wit  and  gossip,  vieing  in  this 
respect  with  the  smithy,  without  which  no  farming  village 
would  be  at  all  complete. 

The  country  around  Ottensen  was  level,  and  the  soil 
most  fertile,  thickly  dotted  with  farms  producing  everv 
kind  of  useful  crop,  with  alternating  tracts  of  rich  meaaow 

17 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

land,  where  cattle  waded  often  knee-deep  in  grass  and 
clover  to  yield  the  choicest  milk  and  butter,  or  fattening 
for  the  most  epicurean  markets  of  Europe.  In  the  dis- 
tance eastwards  and  northwards  outlying  fringes  of  forest 
showed  in  soft  air-veiled  patches.  The  roads,  lanes,  and 
fi^ld  fences  were  formed  largely  of  hedges  of  hawthorn, 
blackberry  and  gorse,  with  occasional  lines  or  tree-sentries 
of  elm,  beech,  oak,  poplar,  and  other  common  European 
trees.  Fruit  orchards,  of  course,  abounded,  and  few  were 
the  more  isolated  residences  where  luxuriant  old-fashioned 
gardens  did  not  fill  the  eye  with  glowing  color,  and  make 
fragrant  the  delicious  air  with  sweet  perfume.  Such  was 
Ottensen  and  its  vicinity  in  my  boyhood. 

This  little  old-world  village  had,  of  course,  given  home- 
shelter  to  many  generations  of  that  ever-living  romance, 
Humanity,  which  is  much  the  same  everywhere— laugh- 
ing, romping,  mischievous  and  not  infrequently  painfully 
howling  childhood;  youthful  *'Romeos"  and  ''Juliets"  of 
every  type  and  variety  of  fate;  manhood  and  womanhood 
loving,  hating,  toiling,  idling,  hoping,  despairing,  often 
broken-hearted;  all  the  romances,  comedies,  tragedies  and 
common-places  of  life  had  habited  the  apartments  of  the 
old  houses,  crossed  the  thresholds  of  their  doors,  gazed 
upon  the  outer  world  from  their  window-casements. 
Where,  indeed,  is  the  town  or  village,  especially  those  of 
any  antiquity,  that  is  not  at  once  a  library  and  theatre 
of  associations  of  deepest  universal  interest? 

In  a  small,  two-story  tenement,  in  one  of  the  narrower 
streets  of  this  village  my  parents,  a  young  married  couple 
by  the  name  of  "Jager,"  were  residing  in  the  year  1853— 
the  year  of  my  birth.  It  was  the  bright  early  morning  of 
the  bustling  modern  day  of  the  world.  The  great  Ex- 
hibition of  London  had  just  been  held ;  railways  and 
steamships  were  coming  into  general  use;  gold  had  just 
been  discovered  in  Australia,  and  the  gold  fever  was  at  its 
height;  it  was  just  before  the  outbreak  of  the  Crimean 
War. 

Frosty  winter  had  departed,  and  the  pleasant  month  of 
May  was  re-clothing  the  fields  and  gardens  with  spring 
flowers  and  herbage  when  I  was  born,  so  that  my  arrival 

18 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

on  this  mundane  scene  was  to  this  extent  under  happy  aus- 
pices. 1  was  christened  Adolph,  a  favorite  German  name. 
But  my  parents  were  in  comparatively  poor  circum- 
stances, aggravated,  no  doubt,  by  the  fact  that  my  father, 
a  cigar-maker  by  trade,  was  in  ill-health  from  some  time 
before  his  marriage.  Very  soon  after  my  birth,  as  I  am 
told,  he  died  of  that  dread  disease,  consumption.  But 
though  my  parents  were  only  struggling  workers,  their  in- 
dustry and  honesty  gained  respect,  and  in  that  at  least  I 
m^  rejoice  in  inheriting  a  good  name.  I  am  far  from  be- 
ing ashamed  of  my  humble  extraction,  for  I  hold  that 
neither  high  birth  nor  inherited  wealth  is  any  just  cause 
of  individual  pride;  though  I  freely  admit  that  one  born 
to  riches  has  great  advantages  to  start  with,  and  that  I 
myself  should  have  been  glad,  at  least  in  early  life,  if  I 
had  been  so  fortunately  placed.  But  we  are  never  given 
any  choice  in  such  matters,  nor  even  consulted  as  to  be- 
ing here  at  all!  Where,  then,  is  the  personal  credit  or 
discredit  in  the  accident  of  birth  position?  I  quite  fail  to 
see  that  any  one  has  fair  cause  to  be  proud  unless  because 
he  or  she  has  personally  done  something  of  a  meritorious 
nature,  whether  it  be  the  performance  of  some  noble  deed, 
the  achievement  of  deserved  distinction,  or  merely  the 
faithful  fulfilment  of  duty,  great  or  small. 


19 


CHAPTER  II. 

INFANCY. 

My  lot  as  a  child  may  have  been  rather  hard,  as  compar- 
ed with  some,  but  I  pity  all  those  who  have  no  fond  memory 
of  a  mother.  My  mother  had  generally  to  work  away 
from  home— at  some  private  house,  or  at  some  shop  or  fac- 
tory, perhaps  in  Altona  or  Hamburg.  I  remember  well 
how,  when  I  was  still  in  the  short  frocks  of  infancy, 
mother  used  to  every  morning  carry  me  in  her  arms  to 
the  Creche,  or  general  nursery,  where  little  children  were 
left  by  working  mothers  in  charge  of  the  proprietress,  a 
rather  elderly  widow,  and  her  two  daughters.  Vividly 
their  authoritative  personalities  were  impressed  on  my 
sensitive  young  mind,  especially  that  of  the  mistress-in- 
chief,  a  tall,  dignified  dame  in  rustling  dark  silk  dress,  her 
carefully-curled  dark  ringlets  falling  in  regular  spiral  col- 
umns upon  her  shoulders,  and  crowned  with  a  white  lace 
cap,  glittering  gold-rimmed  spectacles,  with  which  to  over- 
awe recalcitrant  infants,  and  impress  the  adult  public  of 
every  kind  and  degree— a  prim,  firm,  but  not  unkindly 
lady.  The  elder  daughter  was  somewhat  old-maidish,  but 
the  younger  one  was,  as  I  now  judge,  a  pleasant  young 
woman  in  the  hey-day  of  youth.  She,  at  least,  frequently 
joined  in  our  childish  games  and  played  the  part  of  big 
sister  in  our  mishaps  and  troubles,  besides  assisting  in 
our  instruction  and  management.  Happy,  happy  days 
they  were,  in  spite  of  occasional  painful  falls,  and  bruises, 
and  scratchings;  yes,  and  even  in  spite  of  slappings  and 
sundry  milder  forms  of  retribution  for  misbehavior;  for 
to  childhood  is  not  the  world  one  great,  beautiful,  joyous 
play-ground,  full  of  fascinating  wonders? 

On  arriving  in  the  morning,  as  soon  as  the  motherly 
parting  kiss  and  the  inevitable  motherly  admonitions  to 
*'Be  good  and  mind  what  you  are  told,"  were  given,  our 
outer  wrappings  were  removed,  and  we  were  then,  to  keep 
as  clean  as  practicable,  covered  with    a  blue    and    white 

ao 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

striped  cotton  blouse  reaching  to  the  feet,  and  tied  round 
the  waist  with  a  band  of  the  same  material;  peculiar  lit- 
tle objects  we  must  have  looked;  but  little  we  cared  for 
that — games  to  us  were  the  only  serious  considerations  in 
life,  with  a  due  quantity  of  nice  things  to  eat  and  drink! 
And  when  the  weather  permitted  we  usually  played 
nearly  all  day  long  on  the  sandy  ground,  and  bright  but- 
terflies would  come  to  be  chased,  and  birds  to  chatter  and 
sing  to  us,  and — and  only  that  you  are  grown  up  people 
who  forget  and  despise  such  petty  delights,  I  could,  it 
may  be,  waft  you  back  on  the  fairy  wings  of  memory  to 
your  own  daisy-like  days  of  freshest,  purest  joys.  Still 
I  may  be  pardoned  for  loitering  yet  a  little  longer  on  this 
theme;  time  enough  for  more  intoxicating  experiences. 

Talking  of  intoxicating  things,  we  often  played  a  game 
copied,  I  suppose,  from  some  rustic  vintage  or  harvest  fes- 
tival and  nunnery.  When  the  grape  vine  on  the  sunny 
northern  wall  was  rich  in  leaf  and  fruity  clusters,  we  be- 
came a  juvenile  court  of  Bacchus.  An  empty  barrel 
placed  on  a  sledge  was  used  as  the  royal  chariot,  one  of  us 
(I  myself  more  than  once)  sat  astride  this,  duly  vine- 
crowned  as  the  wine-god,  the  rest  garlanded  as  courtiers 
and  satellites,  some  with  improvised  musical  instruments 
of  most  unmusical  qualities,  and  so  we  reveled  gloriously 
and  distracted  the  unsympathetic  sensitive  ears  of  our 
poor  mistress.  In  fact,  it  was  an  incident  of  this  nature 
that  brought  about  certain  consequences  that  were  so 
alarming  to  myself  as  to  remain  one  of  my  most  vivid  im- 
pressions. One  day  these  mimic  Bacchanalian  revels  had 
become  so  outrageously  noisy  that  the  good  dame,  probably 
suffering  from  a  nervous  headache  already,  more  than 
once  came  out  to  quell  the  tumult  and  warn  us  against 
such  '4ese  majeste."  But  her  little  subjects  were  irre- 
pressible—-whether  from  incipient  republican  spirit  and 
rebelious  assertion  pf  the  ''vox  populi"  and  the  right  of 
free  speech,  or  whether  from  previous  lax  administration 
of  the  law  and  the  ebullition  of  ecstatic  energy  causing 
forgetfulness,  I  cannot  say;  but  the  regal  proclamation 
having  been  repeatedly  and  so  flagitiously  set  at  naught, 
the  justly  incensed  queen  came  forth  with  flushing  spee- 

21 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

tacles,  face  burning  with  high-pressure  fury,  and  lips  set 
in  implacable  resolve  to  apply  drastic  repressive  measures. 
Whether  deservedly  or  by  accident,  I  was  pounced  upon 
as  the  seeming  ringleader  and  most  suitable  scapegoat, 
and  was  conducted  with  every  mark  of  ignominy  and  with 
voluble  feminine  opprobrium  into  the  then  empty  school- 
room in  order  to  undergo  the  severest  penalty  of  the  law. 
As  you  will  easily  guess,  this  was  a  sharp  physical  correc- 
tive—a time-honored  external  treatment  for  mental  dis- 
orders, and  located  apparently  on  the  principle  of  the  well- 
known  adage  that  ''extremes  meet."  We  need  not  defin- 
itely specify  the  ''extremes"  in  these  delicate  and  pain- 
ful cases,  though  it  may  be  put  in  plainer  English  that 
the  little  delinquent  was  to  be  scientifically,  conscien- 
tiously, and  most  impressively  "spanked."  And,  by  the 
way,  I  have  often  noticed  that  when  even  grown  up  boys 
are  afflicted  with  some  moral  "kink"  in  the  cranium,  one 
of  the  best  and  speediest  methods  of  cure  is  a  vigorous 
concussion  of  heavy  shoe  leather  against  that  portion  of 
their  anatomy  which  terminates  the  other  extreme  of  the 
spinal  column— acting,  doubtless,  telepathically  on  the 
cerebral  extremity.  Well,  having  been  towed  into  the 
schoolroom,  notwithstanding  my  frantically-voiced  re- 
pentance, and  the  door  being  closed,  in  that  awe-inspiring 
privacy,  the  hand  of  offended  authority  proceeded  to  the 
necessary  preliminaries  to  the  chastisement  by  trying  to 
lift  the  small  culprit's  small  petticoats.  But  it  was  prob- 
ably not  my  first  experience  of  such  ceremonies,  and  as,  to 
quote  another  good  old  adage,  "the  burnt  child  dreads 
the  fire,"  I  wriggled,  struggled,  and  screamed  so  desper- 
ately that  the  good  dame,  either  tiring  out,  or  perhaps 
partly  yielding  to  feminine  compassion,  desisted  from  the 
intended  performance  and  substituted  the  much  milder 
punishment  of  solitary  confinement  in  ,a  standing  position 
behind  a  large,  white-tiled  brick  oven-like  stove,  which  oc- 
cupied part  of  the  room.  I  knew  nothing  of  your  English 
Shakespeare  then,  of  course,  but  I  daresay  my  little  mind 
was  conscious  of  some  such  feeling  as  expressed  in  his 
lines: 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


* '  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained ; 
It  droppeth,  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven, 
Upon  the  place  beneath ;  it  is  twice  blessed,— 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes." 

I  hope  the  Creche  mistress  found  it  so  in  my  future  con- 
ducts—though I  have  some  doubts.  I  may  add  that  the 
brick  stove  referred  to  had  its  door  opening  in  the  passage, 
where  fuel  was  put  in.  It  was  simply  an  excellent  contriv- 
ance for  warming  a  room,  with  the  additional  advantage  of 
being  safe  for  children. 


At  this  Creche  we  had  a  few  daily  simple  lessons,  but 
it  was  less  a  school  than  a  day-nursery. 

One  of  the  principal  subjects  of  instruction  at  this  Babies' 
University  was  the  teaching  of  little  songs,  in  which  branch 
of  education  the  widow's  younger  daughter  was  the  chief 
"Professor,"  herself  singing  sweetly  and  playing  accom- 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

paniments  on  a  rather  old-fashioned  piano  afflicted  with  a 
chronic  wiry  twang.  ITiese  songs  we  used  to  sing  on  state 
occasions,  as,  for  instance,  to  our  church  minister  when  he 
visited  the  establishment,  which  he  did  perfunctorily  every 
few  months  and  acted  as  a  sort  of  grand  fatherly  semi-of- 
ficial inspector.  I  remember  the  first  song  I  learned  and 
will  give  it  here  to  my  readers.  It  is  rather  short,  but  kind- 
ly remember  that  I  was  myself  quite  short  enough  for  it 
both  in  stature  and  in  years  at  that  time.    Here  it  is : 

'^Goldene  Abendsonne, 

We  bist  du  so  shon? 

Nie  Kann  ohne  Wonne 

Deinen  Glanz  ich  sehn. " 

Which  freely  translated  into  English  reads:  — 

*' Golden  Evening  Sun, 

How  art  thou  so  bright? 

Never  without  wonder  can 

I  view  your  beams  of  light." 
Was  this  little  stanza  merely  a  modernized  survival  of 
the  sun-worship  of  our  early  German  forefathers  as  record- 
ed by  Julius  Caesar? 

At  dinner  we  used  to  sit  at  long  tables,  the  smaller  chil- 
dren securely  fastened  in  their  chairs.  The  meals  were 
good,  and  I  daresay  our  appetites  were  such  as  befitted  chil- 
dren of  the  sturdy  German  race,  though  I  myself  was  a 
somewhat  delicate  child.  Then  followed  our  afternoon  nap, 
—not  on  beds  or  cots,  oh  dear  no!  Ours  was  hardier  up- 
bringing'. Each  little  pair  of  arms  used  to  be  folded  on  th^ 
table,  and  each  little  head  rested  on  that  arm-pillow,  and 
there  we  slept,  I  am  sure  as  soundly  and  comfortably  as  any 
Prince  or  Princess  in  all  the  land. 

One  or  two  more  childhoods  memories:  My  mother 
sometimes  carried  me  with  her  to  see  her  sister  living  in 
Hamburg.  The  main  part  of  the  city  is  surrounded  by  an 
embankment  and  a  moat.  Where  streets  lead  through  the 
former  there  were  great  solid  iron  gates  which  were  closed 
at  ten  o'clock  at  night.  On  summer  evenings  my  mother 
would  often  stay  so  long  with  her  sister,  enjoying  the  uni- 
versal feminine  delight  of  a  confidential  tongue-loosening 

24 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

of  mind,  that  she  would  have  to  run  with  me  on  her  arm 
in  order  to  get  out  of  the  gate  before  it  closed  for  the  night ; 
if  she  succeeded  she  had  then  the  long  weary  walk  through 
Altona  to  our  home  in  Ottensen;  sometimes  she  would  be 
too  late  for  the  gate  and  would  have  to  return  to  my  aunt's 
for  the  night. 

My  mother  was  employed  one  day  at  the  same  place 
where  she  had  been  in  service  for  fourteen  years  before  her 
marriage  (how  different  is  the  case  with  most  girls  now-a- 
days!)  Her  former  mistress,  the  lady  of  the  house,  moved 
by  kindly  sympathy  for  the  poor  hard-working  young 
widow,  her  own  once  employe— and  you  must  know  that 
kindly  relations  between  employers  and  servants  were  then 
quite  common  in  Germany— and  no  doubt  feeling  also  a 
kind  womanly  interest  in  the  widow's  fatherless  child, 
presented  my  mother  with  a  very  nice  little  mantle  for  me. 
This  garment  had  belonged  to  the  lady's  own  little  girl, 
who,  however,  had  by  this  time  out-grown  it.  It  was  of 
Scotch-plaid  silk,  lined  with  red  silk,  and  when  my  mother 's 
loving  fingers  tried  it  on  me  that  evening  it  was  found  to 
fit  splendidly.  Next  morning  I  was  carried  to  the  Creche 
gorgeously  arrayed  in  this  finery— like  an  infant  Joseph 
in  his  "coat  of  many  colors,"  and  not  unlikely  arousing  in 
other  children  and  their  mothers  much  the  same  feelings 
of  envy  and  bitterness  which  that  gaily-bedecked  young 
Israelite  provoked  among  his  less  fortunate  brethren,  al- 
though at  the  Creche  my  little  vanity  was  of  course  much 
flattered  by  being  for  the  time  the  admiration  of  the  other 
little  ones. 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


k 


25 


CHAPTER  III. 

BOYHOOD  — SCHOOL-DAYS— GAMES— ADVENTURES. 

I  casually  mentioned  in  the  previous  chapter  that  as  a 
child  I  was  delicate;  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  was  very  much 
so  until  I  was  about  seven  years  of  age,  and  my  poor  mother 
must  have  had  a  terrible  anxious  time  with  me.  At  times 
I  must  have  nearly  worried  her  to  death.  For  days  to- 
gether I  would  have  to  remain  in  bed  sick,  and  I'm  sure 
that  what  with  buyiijg  medicines,  dainties,  occasional  toys, 
and  picture  books,  she  must  have  been  obliged  to  deny  her- 
self sadly  even  of  actual  necessaries,  for  though  she  work- 
ed hard  it  was  impossible  that  her  earnings  could  have  been 
more  than  the  barest  pittance,  for  plain  needlework  never 
was  an  occupation  to  yield  a  fortune.  Then  think  what 
motherly  fears  and  anxieties  are  when  a  child  is  seriously 
ailing,  but  that  "Golden  Evening  Sun"  we  used  to  sing 
about  never  shone  so  gloriously  radiant  and  its  beams  were 
never  so  beneficial  as  true  mother-love,— such  mother-love 
as  I  knew.  When  I  was  sick  in  bed  I  would  ask  and  even 
tantalize  her  to  buy  me  something  I  fancied;  and  she  hav- 
ing, I  suppose,  made  acrobatic  mental  calculations,  and  in 
something  of  the  desperate  spirit  of  the  gamester  and  specu- 
lator, for  the  sake  of  her  boy  could  not  refuse  her  promise. 
But  so  exacting  a  creditor  was  I,  such  a  Shy  lock  for  my 
"bond,"  that  I  dunned  her  incessantly,  calling  her  back 
into  the  room  again  and  again— fifty  times  a  day  at  least — 
only  to  hear  me  remind  her  of  her  promise  and  fret  and 
tyrannize  as  only  a  child  invalid  can,  kissing  and  hugging 
poor  indulgent  mother  partly  in  earnest  and  partly  also 
with  what  is  known  as  '  *  cupboard-love, ' '  and  in  turn  being 
kissed  and  soothed  and  fondled,  my  pillow  shaken  up  afresh, 
my  forehead  and  hair  caressed  with  her  soft  cool  hand,  a 
posy  of  sweet  flowers  placed  within  my  reach,  a  refreshing 
drink  held  to  my  lips,  some  dainty  morsel  or  light  nourish- 
ing food  supplied— then  back  to  her  tedious  daily  work.  Oh, 
the  sweet  bitterness  and  mental  agony  of  such  memories! 

26 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Many  a  time  and  oft  in  later  life,  when  perhaps  on  a  soli- 
tary sick  bed,  or  in  some  outlandish  wild,  or  amidst  exotic 
pleasures  or  the  hum-drum  toils  and  cares  of  every-day 
business,  have  I  recalled  that  tender,  self-sacrificing  mother- 
love;  and  deep  has  been  my  regret  that  I  never  had  the 
chance  of  making  some  return  for  the  inestimable  trouble 
she  had  with  me,  for,  as  you  will  find  later  on,  I  lost  her 
when  1  was  only  about  eleven  years  of  age;  and  though 
since  then  my  personal  relations  with  and  experience  of 
women  have  been  painful  in  the  extreme  nearly  all  through 
life,  so  that  my  faith  in  them  has  been  to  a  great  extent 
destroyed,  yet  the  memory  of  my  mother  has  done  much  to 
hallow  in  my  eyes,  if  not  all  womankind,  at  least  all  mother- 
hood. The  years  of  thoughtless  pleasure  having  passed, 
my  sobered  days  of  reflection  often  find  me  thrilled  with 
the  emotion  so  poetically  expressed  in  the  lines:  — 

**  Backward,  turn  backward,  0  Time,  in  your  flight, 
Make  me  a  child  again,  just  for  to-night. ' ' 

You,  fair  readers,  will,  I  trust,  pardon  me  my  uncom- 
plimentary remarks  above  about  your  incomprehensible 
sex.  You  will  not  wonder  nor  frown  if  you  read  my  whole 
history ;  nay,  I  feel  sure  that  many  of  you,  pure  and  noble- 
hearted  and  sympathetic,  will  extend  to  me  your  most  graci- 
ous commiseration,  for, 

"When. pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow 
A  ministering  angel  thou." 

But  in  this  book,  I  am  only  a  boy  yet— and  a  very  small 
boy  too,  for  until  I  was  well  into  my  ' '  teens ' '  I  was  always 
undersized,  though  after  my  seventh  year  I  became  gradu- 
ally hardy.  Plenty  of  open-air  life,  playing  with  other 
boys,  the  bracing  climate,  and  perhaps  less  petting  and 
spoiling  at  home  (mj^  mother  about  this  time  getting  mar- 
ried again)  worked  wonders  for  my  constitution.  You  may 
have  noticed,  I  have,  how  even  little  urchins  who  spend 
most  of  their  time  running  bare-footed  about  the  streets  of 
a  city,  making  mud-pies,  paddling  in  gutters,  and  doing  all 
sorts  of  horrifying  things,  seem  to  thrive— how  sturdy  they 

27 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

become;  while  children  who  are  treated  like  delicate  china 
— always  packed  up  in  wadding,  as  it  were,  whenever  they 
move  about— or  like  hot-house  flowers,  droop  and  languish 
and  easily  become  a  prey  to  serious  disorders. 

In  all  probability  my  mother's  second  marriage  was  to 
me  a  blessing  in  disguise,  although  at  the  time  I  may  have 
missed  something  from  her  former  undivided  attention. 
Whether  she  found  her  solitary  struggle  for  a  livelihood 
too  severe  and  hopeless  with  me  on  her  hands ;  whether  she 
was  influenced  largely  by  consideration  for  my  better  wel- 
fare as  my  needs  increased;  or  whether  she  was  weary  of 
widowhood  and  felt  a  woman 's  natural  craving  for  the  lov- 
ing support  and  society  of  a  husband  I  can,  of  course,  have 
but  little  idea.  Perhaps  all  these  motives  combined.  She 
was  still  a  young  woman,  rather  tall  and  dark-haired;  so 
I  suppose,  seeing  that  she  had  no  wealth  of  any  sort,  that 
the  second  successful  suitor  must  have  been  attracted  by 
her  personality  and  actuated  by  sincere  love,  and  so 
would  be  an  ardent  wooer.  As  women  recognize  and  value 
genuine  love  and  easily  reciprocate  it,  we  can  understand 
how  any  hesitation  on  her  part  would  dissolve  in  the 
warmth  of  love-persuasion.  At  all  events,  I  have  every 
reason  to  believe  that  the  marriage  was  a  happy  one.  I 
must  admit  that  he  was  a  really  good  stepfather  to  me,  not 
only  as  long  as  my  mother  lived,  but  in  some  respects  also 
after  her  death. 

Before  passing  to  other  and  perhaps  more  interesting 
subjects  I  must  relate  one  more  incident  connected  with  my 
mother.  Although,  as  you  have  seen,  she  idolized  me  as  her 
only  child,  nevertheless  she  one  day  treated  me  to  a  most 
terrible  thrashing— and  richly  I  deserved  it.  Like  all 
spoilt  children,  I  suppose  I  had  grown  rather  self-willed 
and  selfish — wanting  everything  I  set  my  mind  upon,  and 
endeavoring  to  get  it  by  hook  or  by  crook.  One  of  my 
playmates  at  this  period,  a  plump  well-stuffed  looking  boy 
named  Louis  Prahl,  a  sort  of  animated  German  sausage, 
and  always  wearing  his  peaked  cap  tilted  low  over  his  fore- 
head (giving  him  a  rather  truculent  appearance),  was  the 
proud  possessor  of  very  nice  whip.  Now  all  boys  value 
whips  highly,  for  one  thing  they  impart  a  manly  and  mas- 

28 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

terful  air,  for  another  they  are  most  useful  as  playthings 
and  most  effective  as  weapons  of  offence  and  mischief.  For 
instance,  what  a  delight  it  is  to  lash  a  smaller  boy's  legs, 
or  a  timid-looking  dog,  or  the  unlucky  cat,  goat,  or  fowl 
that  comes  within  your  lordly  reach ;  and  how  you  can  make 
girls  scream !  It  is  a  Ihing  of  joy  to  boyhood.  Therefore 
I  coveted  that  whip.  But  Louis  Prahl  had  proper  business 
instincts  and  would  neither  give  it  in  friendship  nor  trade 
it  for  anything  I  then  had  at  disposal;  he  wanted  cash,  a 
whole  penny,  for  it.  For  some  reason  I  could  not  appeal  to 
Mother  and  I  was  at  my  wits  end  how  to  get  this,  for  the 
time,  most  important  object  in  the  world — the  whip.  At 
last  I  decided  to  help  myself  to  the  penny  from  my  mother 's 
purse.  I  watched  for  my  opportunity  and  managed  to  ab- 
stract the  desired  coin  unseen  and  hid  it  under  a  square 
ink-bottle.  So  far  all  had  gone  well,  as  I  thought.  Next 
day  I  heard  the  crack,  crack,  crack  of  a  whip  in  the  little 
street  by  our  house,  and  having  drifted  ostentatiously 
to  the  window,  my  heart  going  pit-a-pat  with  suppressed 
excitement,  I  looked  out.  Yes,  there  was  the  titled  cap  of 
Louis,  his  impertinent  up-turned  chin,  his  glowering  eyes 
under  his  cap-peak,  his  rotund  form,  and  above  all  there 
was  that  matchless  whip.  I  seized  the  inkstand  and  carried 
it  into  another  room  to  get  at  the  penny.  But  alas,  the 
quick  motherly  eye,  and  motherly  experience  and  inquisi- 
tiveness  prompted  the  sharp  question,  "What  do  you  want 
that  inkstand  for  T '  I,  too,  was  quick,  though  foolish  in  my 
childness  simplicity,  and  replied,  *'I  want  to  have  a  look 
at  the  bird"  (which  was  painted  on  the  lid).  Now,  as  that 
box  and  picture  were  constantly  in  front  of  me  at  home  and 
were  therefore  perfectly  familiar,  Mother's  curiosity  was 
far  from  satisfied,  so  she  quietly  stole  up  behind  me  and 
peeping  over  my  shoulder  caught  me  ''inflagrante  delicts** 
as  I  took  the  penny  from  its  hiding-place.  Well,  I  had  to 
make  a  full  confession,  for  she  had  always  taught  me  to 
tell  the  truth.  But  this  did  not  extenuate  the  crime  of 
stealing,  and  in  her  wise  care  for  my  future  welfare  I  was 
treated  to  such  a  ''hiding"  as  I  never  had  before  or  since— 
it  was  what  you  call  a  ''caution"— till  at  last,  aching  and 
gasping  for  breath,  I  crept  under  the  bed  and  refused  for  a 

29 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

long  time  to  budge.  When  at  last  I  shame-facedly  emerged, 
mother  read  me  a  lecture  that  for  length  and  impressive 
ness  would  have  done  credit  to  the  most  eloquent  and  long- 
winded  divine  who  ever  preached  from  a  pulpit.  But  I  as- 
sure you  that  the  thi;ashing  and  the  lecture  permanently 
cured  me  of  taking  anything  which  Aid  not  belong  to  me. 

Between  six  and  seven  years  of  age  my  proper  school 
life  began  at  the  village  Common  School.  One  morning 
after  being  washed,  combed,  and  tidied  generally  with  even 
mote  than  usual  care,  with  no  doubt  some  lamentations 
and  protestations  on  my  part,  I  was  dispatched  with  a  slate, 
slate  pencil,  and  a  ticket  bearing  my  name,  age,  and  address, 
to  that  to  all  children  terror-inspiring  institution  where 
life's  serious  business  begins,  where  awesome  bogies  in  the 
shape  of  mysterious  books  and  imposing  maps  and  fiendish 
arithmetical  figures  and  as  yet  clear  copy-books  and  all  the 
other  spirit-crushing  paraphernalia  or  learning)  together 
with  that  majestic  human  embodiment  of  knowledge,  wis- 
dom and  power,  the  schoolmaster  with  his  lithe  cruel-looking 
cane,  all  lie  in  wait  for  their  poor  shrinking  little  victim ; 
and  not  only  these,  but  rows  and  rows  of  critical  mischievous* 
juvenile  eyes  and  grinning,  mocking  faces ;  a  hundred  darts 
pirce  your  young  soul ;  it  is  one  of  the  most  trying  experien- 
ces in  life, — the  first  step  inside  a  school  door,— it  is  a  men- 
tal purgatory !  Most  children  were  then,  and  are  now,  first 
taken  to  school  by  father  or  mother,  or  a  bigger  brother  or 
sister.  My  mother  could  not  leave  her  work  and  I  had  no 
brother  or  sister ;  so  I  had  to  go  alone. But  fortunately  I  was 
always  fairly  self-confident  and  studiously  disposed,  so  did 
not  much  mind  the  prospect.  New  scholars  were  only  admit- 
ted at  the  beginning  of  a  term  ;  I  therefore  found  a  small 
crowd  of  children  and  parents  waiting  at  the  schooldoor.  As 
these  entered  I  did  also,  and  took  my  stand  near  a  window 
in  the  class-room  to  await  my  turn  to  be  enrolled  and  placed 
in  a  class,  of  which  there  were  several,  some  boys  only,  some 
girls,  and  one  (the  youngest)  a  mixed  class.  There  were 
eight  teachers,  all  males.  I  was  placed  in  the  mixed  young- 
est class,  the  teacher  of  which  was  a  rather  elderly  man  with 
fair  hair,  medium-sized  and  thin,  of  stern  respect,  and.  as 
I  found  out,  very  hot-tempered.     We,  the  boys  and  girls, 

30 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

sat  on  wooden  forms  without  desks,  holding  our  slates  on 
our  left  arms  when  we  had  to  write.  My  form  wa^  the  last 
and  held  about  twenty  boys  aad  girls.  A  few  days  after 
my  entry  we  boys  were  trying  to  rock  that  form  when  the 
teacher's  attention  was  elsewhere  and  we  managed  so  well 
that  we  soon  had  a  grand  catastrophe,  for  over  went  the 
form  with  a  loud  crash,  a  volley  of  bumps  as  heads  and 
bodies  struck  the  floor,  piercing  screams  from  the  girls,  and 


all  the  forty  legs  were  for  a  moment  or  two  in  all  sorts  of 
attitudes,  high  in  the  air,  some  rigidly  pointing  aloft,  some 
wilding  flourishing.  The  wrathful  teacher  tried  in  vain  to 
discover  the  principal  culprits— nobody  seemed  to  know- 
so  far  that  time  we  all  escaped.  But  as  this  kind  of  acci- 
dent happened  rather  often,  we  boys  all  along  that  form  at 
last  received  a  severe  thrashing.  Fun  and  mischief  are 
however,  irresistible  temptations  to  boyhood,  and  notwith- 
standing liberal  punishment,  this  particular  delight,  upset- 
ting the  form  and  the  girls  on  it,  did  not  cease  until  the 
boys  and  girls  were  separated  and  we  were  provided  with 
unupsettable  combined  forms  and  desks.    How  long  it  was 


81 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

before  this  change  was  made  I  do  not  remember,  but  some- 
how or  other  the  girls  seeemed  to  be  a  most  disturbing  in- 
fluence, perhaps  some  of  the  little  minxes  were  deliber- 
ately, if  demurely,  provocative  parties  to  the  fun,  and  our 
consequent  painful  penalties;  at  all  events,  we  simply 
could  not  sit  quiet  in  their  neighborhood,  young  and  small 
as  we  were.  I  have  found  it  much  the  same  everywhere, 
even  in  later  years,  as  it  has  been  wittily  put,  ^'There's 
no  living  with,  or  without  them." 


32 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BOYHOOD    CONTIISrUED 

Rare  games,  fun  and  frolic  we  schoolboys  used  to  have 
on  holidays,  Sundays,  and  in  miscellaneous  spare  time.  I 
need  not  particularize  the  ordinary  sports  and  pranks  of 
boyhood  all  the  civilized  world  over;  you  who  have  been 
boys  yourselves  can  imagine  all  that — tops,  marbles,  kites, 
hoops,  and  the  whole  catalogue  of  diversions  of  simple 
kind,  practical  jokes,  and  many  things  besides  that  you 
ought  not  to  do— and  therefore  you  do  with  the  utmost 
assiduity  and  dispatch.  I  merely  give  a  few  of  our  dis- 
tinctive delights. 

You  remember  the  sheet  of  water  that  was  in  the  vil- 
lage, near  its  eastern  side?  Well,  that  was  the  scene  of 
countless  pleasant  hours,  of  many  a  mischievous  deed,  and 
of  occasional  severe  smartings.  I  had  always  been  very 
fond  of  water,  and  at  a  very  early  age  took  to  bathing  and 
learned  to  swim.  The  properly  authorized  place  for  bath- 
ing was  at  the  river,  where  suitable  baths  were  provided, 
and  as  the  bathing  establishment  proprietors  in  Germany 
are  subsidized  by  the  local  Town  Councils  to  admit  chil- 
dren free  during  certain  hours  (usually  from  6  to  8 
o'clock  in  the  evening),  at  such  times  boys  flock  to  the 
baths  in  hundreds  from  miles  around,  so  that  I  believe 
nearly  every  boy  in  Germany  can  swim.  I  have  often 
wondered  since  living  in  Australia  why  such  contracts  are 
not  in  force  everywhere  here.  I  am  sure  the  privilege 
would  be  highly  appreciated  by  the  youngsters.  I  un- 
derstand, however,  that  during  the  last  few  years  some- 
thing has  been  done  in  this  direction,  and  with  consider- 
able benefit. 

But,  though  bathing  facilities  were  provided  at  the 
river,  the  little  lake  in  the  village  suited  us  Ottensen  boys 
far  better,  if  only  because  it  was  close  at  hand;  whereas 
the  river  was  about,  say,  a  mile  and  a  half  away.  Then, 
as  this  pond-lake  was  pretty  well  surrounded  by  houses 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

it  was  prohibited  to  bathe  there ;  naturally  this  f aet  added 
to  its  charms,  it  infused  a  dash  of  adventure  and  audacity 
in  the  face  of  constituted  authority— an  irresistible  temp- 
tation to  boyhood;  for,  if  I  may  apply  the  metaphor  to 
water,  is  not  '* stolen  fruit  the  sweetest?"  What  did  we 
boys  care  for  prohibitions  and  slow-footed  policemen? 
Having  reconnoitered  a  little  to  see  that  the  coast  was 
clear  of  our  natural  enemies,  the  guardians  of  law,  we 
would  hastily  undress,  drop  our  clothes  anywhere  on  the 
footpath,  and  slip  into  the  delicious  element.  Sometimes 
all  went  pleasantly;  at  other  times  the  gold-banded  cap 
and  formidable  cane  of  ''Brumm"  or  "Wilkins, "  the  local 
constables  (they  wore  no  uniform  except  the  cap)  would 
suddenly  appear  from  round  a  corner,  and  with  a  rush 
he  would  be  upon  us,  take  our  names  and  addresses  for 
."future  proceedings"  of  a  vague  sort,  and  such  as  he 
could  lay  hands  upon  he  took  ''summary"  proceedings 
with  by  inflicting  a  few  sharp  strokes  with  his  cane— 
while  we  were  at  a  very  great  disadvantage  indeed.  That 
was  the  worst  feature  in  some  of  these  bathing  exploits; 
the  cane  hurt  very  much  under  such  (to  it)  favorable  con- 
ditions. Any  spectators,  no  doubt,  had  a  cheap  comic  en-^ 
tertainment,  what  with  anguished  writhings  and  skip-* 
pings,  piteous  appeals  for  mercy,  and  the  skillful  display 
of  the  flagellator.  But  we  were  incorrigible— soon  at  the 
same  game  again. 

One  bright  hot  Sunday,  about  a  dozen  of  us  were 
tempted  beyond  endurance  to  have  a  swim  in  the  water  so 
invitingly  close.  Some  people  near  by  called  out  to  us 
that  the  policeman  was  coming;  but  we  had  had  so  many 
false  alarms  just  to  scare  us,  that  we  took  very  little  no- 
tice. We  were  barely  in  the  water,  when  there  he  was, 
sure  enough,  and  only  a  few  yards  away.  Fear  spurred 
us  out  of  the  water,  and,  seizing  what  we  could  of  our 
clothes,  we  scampered  off  with  the  salvage  in  our  arms 
stark-naked  through  the  streets,  the  constable  in  hot  pur- 
suit, shouting  and  threatening.  The  hullabaloo,  of  course, 
brought  people  to  their  doors  and  windows,  and  most  of 
them  seemed  to  vastly  enjoy  the  fun,  many  cheering  us 
on,  some  screaming,  however;     some  scolding    us    loudly 

34 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

and  hopino^  we  should  "catch  it,"  as  the  English  say— 
meaning  they  hoped  the  policeman  and  his  cane  and  other 
dire  consequences  would  catch  us.  On  we  went,  fear  lend- 
ing us  wings,  till  the  would-be  avenger  on  our  track, 
hampered  by  clothes,  short  wind,  and  his  dignity,  gave  up 
the  hopeless  chase,  while  we,  getting  at  last  out  of  the  lit- 
tle town  into  a  paddock,  thankfully  took  refuge  behind  a 
friendly  manure  heap,  and  got  inside  such  decencies  as 
we  had  rescued.  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  have  saved 
everything  except  one  of  my  feet— not  that  I  had  left  that 


behind— no,  it  simply  had  a  nasty  gash  underneath 
through  running  over  some  sharp  coal  slag;  but  I  did  not 
trouble  a  great  deal  about  that.  One  boy  had  lost  his 
shirt,  another  his  most  essential  garment;  several  had  lost 
boots,  stockings,  and  other  sundries;  these  the  policeman 
"arrested"  on  his  more  leisurely  return  trip,  and  im- 
ponded  them  at  the  police  station  by  way  of  "substantial 
bail"  for  the  due  appearance  thereat  of  their  respective 
owners.  When  these  humbly  put  in  their  claims  in  per- 
son, in  varying  degrees     of  discomfort     and     contrition. 


85 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

after  an  impressive  official  lecture  their  possessions  were 
restored,  and  if  they  got  anything  else  they  did  not  no- 
ticeably boast  about  it.  Of  course,  we  were  again  bath- 
ing at  the  pond  the  following  day.  May  the  souls  of  the 
harassed  policemen  ''rest  in  peace." 

One  of  our  chief  delights  at  this  large  pond  was  of  an 
evening,  when  farmers  used  to  bring  their  horses  to  give 
them  a  bath.  Some  of  us,  say  two  or  three,  all  naked, 
would  get  on  the  horse's  back;  two  or  three  others  in  the 
same  primeval  state  would  cling  to  the  poor  beast's  tail; 
then  around  swam  the  horse  with  us  aboard  or  in  tow. 

At  times  wagons  and  carts  were  brought  to  the  lake  and 
left  in  it  to  give  them  a  good  soaking.  This  was  a  glor- 
ious opportunity  for  us;  the  rails  and  other  loose  parts 
we  used  to  take  off  and  use  as  rafts,  playing  shipwrecked 
sailors,  and  all  sorts  of  things  of  that  kind.  Boy-like, 
we  were  either  careless  about  replacing  these  movables  or 
purposely  and  "with  malice  aforethought"  left  them  any- 
where and  everywhere— if  well  out  of  reach  so  much  the 
better,  except  for  the  owner.  He  would  probably  have 
no  end  of  trouble  to  find  and  collect  his  dismembered 
property — some  of  it  in  remote  mid-ocean  of  the  lake.  I 
fear  that  many  a  forcible  German  expletive,  of  which 
*' thunder  and  blitzen"  is  but  a  mild  sample,  was  pro- 
voked—many an  anathema  hurled  at  us  imps  of  wicked- 
ness. Furthermore,  he  would  sometimes  have  to  employ 
some  of  his  graceless  tormentors  to  act  as  a  rescue  party. 

My  parents  for  some  time  lived  near  this  water,  and 
this  fact  greatly  assisted  our  bathing  indulgences,  for  I 
and  my  particular  friends  used  to  undress  under  safe 
shelter  at  home,  and  at  a  favorable  moment  run  through 
our  yard  and  the  back  lane  to  the  water;  while,  if  danger 
threatened,  our  safe  retreat  was  provided  for,  and  we  had 
a  citadel  of  refuge.  With  such  a  strategic  base,  as  mili- 
tary officers  would  term  it,  we  could  always  watch  our 
policeman  till  he  was  at  convenient  distance.  It  need 
hardly  be  said  that  being  so  much  in  the  water  we  were 
all  good  swimmers. 

If  summer  was  glorious  with  such  pastimes  as  already 
mentioned,  not  a    whit  less  so  was  winter,  with  its  varied 

36 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

fascinations.  Poets  may  sing  of  ''summer  isles  of  the 
sea,"  and  that  land  where  trees  and  grass  are  always 
green,  flowers  of  some  sort  are  found  all  the  year  round, 
and  where  the  climate  is  never  rigorous,  may  seem  to  its 
inhabitants  and  to  weakly  refugees  from  colder  climes 
to  be  a  Paradise.  But  such  dwellers  in  sunny  lands  know 
not  the  joys  and  beauties  associated  with  the  sharply  con- 
trasting seasons  of  Northern  Europe  and  America.  In 
Australia,  for  instance,  you  have  no  faint  conception,  un- 
less from  personal  recollection,  of  the  splendid  magnifi- 
cence of  "Jack  Frost's"  reign,  and  of  the  delightful 
amusements  he  affords.  You  shudder  at  the  mere  thought 
of  snow  and  ice ;  but,  oh,  the  superb  glory  of  them !  Hur- 
rah! when  the  snow  comes  down  in  soft  feathery  flakes 
and  in  one  night  covers  earth,  and  roof,  and  everything 
with  a  pure  white  mantle— sometimes  in  places  two  or 
three  feet  deep.  Hurrah !  for  the  glistening,  transparent, 
jewel-like  icicles  hanging  in  untold  millions  from  branch 
and  eaves,  and  everyw^bere  that  moisture  can  drip.  Hur- 
rah !  for  the  solid  floor  of  smooth  ice  on  pond  and  river 
and  lake,  on  which  we  may  skim  almost  like  a  swallow 
in  air.  Yes,  I  am  a  boy  in  heart  still,  when  I  think  of  it, 
and  would  you  be,  if  once  with  all  your  years  and  dig- 
nty  you  could  be  placed  upon  that  ice  and  in  safety  made 
to  speed  over  it,  feeling  the  bracing  glow  upon  your  cheek 
as  you  rush  through  the  air,  and  the  warmth  in  your 
veins  and  heart  that  you  have  lost  these  forty  or  fifty 
years.  You  would  be  like  good  old  Pickwick  under  sim- 
ilar conditions— if  not.  you  are  not  worth  your  salt— you 
are  beneath  contempt  and  abuse;  therefore,  I  will  not 
spend  more  space  about  you.  Can  I  hastily  sketch  a 
winter  morning  scene?  For  weeks  past  the  summer 
dresses  of  the  trees  have  faded  away;  first  in  rich  ruddy 
autumn  tints;  then  into  mere  shreds  and  tatters  of  dull 
brown,  and  the  bared  branches  and  trunks  stand  dark 
and  lifeless  against  a  dull  gray  sky;  the  ground  is  littered 
with  drifted  heaps  of  dry  leaves,  once  so  beautiful;  for 
days  past  the  air  has  been  cold  and  raw,  and  the  wind 
fitfully  sighing  and  wailing  through  keyholes  and  crevices, 
rumbling  down  your  chimneys,  and  generally  making  it- 

87 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

self  unpleasant ; ;  fires  have  been  crackling  and  roaring  in 
the  grates  of  your  cosy  rooms.  You  awake  one  morning 
and  find  your  window  panes  transformed  into  an  exquis- 
itely beautiful  semi-opaque  tracery  of  fanciful  designs  in 
frost-work.  You  make  a  clear  space  by  breathing  on  the 
pane,  and  look  forth;  on  the  window-sill  and  piled  high 
in  its  corners  is  a  soft  white  mass  of  snow;  for  a  moment 
outside  familiar  objects  seem  lost,  spirited  away,  and  you 
seem  in  some  new  white  world;  but,  no,  they  are  only 
partly  hidden  from  sight,  snugly  tucked  in,  as  it  were,  un- 
der winter's  great  soft  counterpane;  even  the  gaunt  trees 
are  unrecognizable  and  ghostly;  some  passer-by  looks  as 
though  he  had  had  a  flour  bag  emptied  over  his  head  and 
shoulders  as  a  practical  joke;  fringes  of  sparkling  icicles 
hang  from  every  projection.  You  dress  and  hasten 
downstairs  and  find  your  water-tap  immovable  in  hard  ice, 
exposed  water  everywhere  with  a  hard  crust  on  its  sur- 
face. You  very  likely  have  to  shovel  your  way  out  into 
the  yard  or  street;  but  you  do  not  mind  all  these  things, 
and  perhaps  many  inconveniences  besides.  The  frost- 
smell  of  the  air  is  an  elixir,  refreshing  and  invigorating, 
sweet  in  its  way  as  nectar.  You  are  enchanted,  elated, 
happy;  everybody  smiles  at  and  pleasantly  greets  every- 
body else;  and  snowballs  begin  to  fly  about,  only  increas- 
ing our  enjoyment  and  good  humor.  You  are  pretty  sure 
to  get  one  in  the  ear,  and  one  on  your  bare  neck,  and 
your  hat  may  be  knocked  off,  but  you  only  laugh  in  such 
a  way  as  ruin  the  local  doctor's  hopes  of  business— and 
every  one  laughs— the  doctor,  it  may  be,  heartiest  of  all — 
for  snow  and  ice  promote  good  nature  and  generosity.  I 
haven't  time  and  room  to  prove  it,  though  I  could,  I 
think. 

In  German  towns  there  used  to  be  a  by-law  compelling 
every  householder  to  have  his  footpath  cleared  of  snow 
by  9  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Then  a  lot  of  men  were  em- 
ployed by  the  Town  Council,  and  sent  out  to  clear  the 
streets  themselves.  We  used  to  call  these  men  the  "Snow 
Shovel  Brigade."  In  a  wonderfully  short  time  the  streets 
would  be  cleared,  and  the  snow  carted  outside  the  town- 
ship.    Then  we  boys  had  a  rare  good  time  building  forti- 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

fications  from  the  heaps,  and  dividing  ourselves  into  two 
opposing  armies,  one  to  attack  and  one  defend,  we  en- 
gaged in  regular  pitched  battles.  Our  ammunition,  of 
course,  consisted  of  snowballs ;  but  sometimes  they  were 
very  hard,  especially  if  the  weather  was  mild.  I  remem- 
ber one  day  getting  one  fairly  in  the  mouth;  the  blow  was 
so  severe  that  it  made  me  cry  out  with  pain,  and  it  was 
about  a  month  before  my  mouth  was  well  again. 

Another  favorite  winter  sport  was  sledging.  Every 
boy  had  a  sledge  of  his  own.  They  were  very  easily 
made— two  deal  boards,  each  about  two  or  three  feet  long 
and  one  inch  thick,  set  up  on  edge  about  two  feet  apart, 
with  two  round  cross-stays  between,  and  with  boards  nail- 
ed across  to  sit  on ;  a  strip  of  hoop  iron  under  each  side 
piece,  and  a  rope  fastened  to  the  front,  and  the  affair  is 
complete.  They  glide  over  the  snow  splendidly.  We 
towed  them  up  some  steep  street,  and  then  mounting  (per- 
haps four  or  five  boys  on  one  sledge)  and  the  hindmost 
boy  pressing  a  stick  against  the  snow,  the  stick  serving 
as  steering  gear,  off  we  went  downhill  at  the  rate  of  some- 
times twenty  to  thirty  miles  an  hour.  With  the  stick  we 
could  steer  our  course  as  well  as  a  motor  of  today  can 
be  steered,  though  we  now  and  then  struck  against  a  more 
or  less  hidden  stone.  When  that  happened,  of  course,  we 
came  to  grief,  turning  unrehearsed  somersaults  through 
the  air,  and  landing  with  no  little  impetuosity  on  any  part 
of  the  body  that  happened  for  the  moment  to  be  under- 
most. If  fate  provided  a  soft  drift  of  snow  for  our 
descent  not  much  damage  was  done;  but  if  an  unlucky 
boy  struck  anything  at  all  solid,  even  a  companion's  boot 
or  elbow,  a  nasty  knock  might  result.  Sometimes  one  or 
two  got  rather  seriously  hurt  for  a  time ;  but  such  disas- 
ters did  not  trouble  us  much.  We  received  more  good 
than  harm,  for  what  with  the  exhilaration  of  our  swift 
descent  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  necessary  toil  of  climb- 
ing up  again,  which  perhaps  took  half  an  hour,  on  the 
other,  we  had  both  an  excellent  tonic  for  the  mind  and 
splendid  exercise  for  the  body. 

'Then  we  had,  also,  lovely  sport  on  the  ice,  not  only  such 
every-day  stuff  as  skating,  pleasurable  as  that  is,  but  far 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

more  exciting  things.  In  severe  winters  our  broad  river 
used  to  become  on  its  surface  an  enormous  sfieet  of  ice 
with  l^igh  drift  masses  along  the  banks.  Before  this  hap- 
pened, however,  for  days  together  detached  ice-blocks 
would  come  drifting  down  the  stream,  and  when  we  boys 
could  reach  one  of  these  near  the  shore,  we  would  "ship" 
on  it,  and  with  a  long  piece  of  wood  like  a  clothes-prop 
we  would  "pole"  or  push  our  slippery  raft  along.  Of 
course,  with  the  tide  we  went  along  very  nicely  without 
any  pushing,  but  we  had  to  take  care  that  w^e  did  not 
"lose  bottom"  and  get  too  far  out  into  the  river,  because 
in  that  case  there  would  be  great  danger  of  drifting  right 
out  to  mid-stream.  When  masses  of  ice  were  thus  float- 
ing down  there  were  no  boats  on  the  river  itself,  because 
they  would  run  the  risk  of  being -crushed  to  matchwood 
in  no  time.  One  day  I  was  alone  on  one  of  these  ice 
floes,  though  some  companions  were  near  by.  Through 
being  either  too  careless  or  too  venturesome,  I  lost  bottom 
with  my  stick,  and  was  carried  down  with  the  current 
about  two  miles,  the  other  boys  excitedly  following  along 
the  bank.  As  you  may  suppose,  I  was  not  a  little  alarm- 
ed, but  at  last,  at  a  bend  of  the  river,  I  was  lucky  enough 
to  get  closer  inshore,  though  still  out  of  depth.  It  seem- 
ed "now  or  never,"  and  there  being  no  easier  or  safer 
way,  I  jumped  in  and  swam  to  land.  The  water  was  ter- 
ribly cold,  so  it  was  fortunate  the  distance  was  not  great. 
At  this  spot  the  Elbe  is  about  four  miles  wide,  so  you 
may  guess  the  risks  I  had  run.  As  soon  as  I  was  out  of 
the  water,  my  mates  undressed  me,  and  we  wrung  out 
the  clothes  as  hard  as  we  could,  and  then,  though  they 
were  decidedly  damp  and  chilly,  I  got  them  on  again.  We 
had  had  enough  of  the  river  for  that  day;  we  preferred 
to  make  more  sure  of  sleeping  at  home  that  night ;  we  were 
sobered  up  a  little  by  my  narrow  escape.  But  the  first 
necessity  was  to  get  myself  dry  and  warm;  and  that  was 
a  much  simpler  matter  than  it  may  seem  to  you,  reader. 
There  were  a  few  glass-bottle  factories  not  far  distant, 
which  in  our  eyes  were  most  beneficent  institutions,  for  it 
was  quite  a  common  occurrence  for  us  to  get  in  the  water ; 
if  they  served  other  purposes  as  well  as  for  drying  wet 

40 


THE   EMIGRANT. 


boys,  tbev  mm*  Iwve  been  a  Imee  mifrf  Tlwir  facili- 
ties for  our  ends  were  superb.  I  aoi  not  q[inte 
whetlMr  we  daarfy  grmspcd  tint  tlMy  bad  aitjr  mare 
pcHtant  ImwiiM  i  in  tbe  order  of  tiun^pL  WeQ,  we  set  oiE 
f ex*  one  of  the  nearest  of  tbeKL  There  were  brid  tnunds 
<m  one  side  of  the  fMtory,  whidi  served  as  reeqitacies  for 
the  dagr  and  adKS  which  eameikrom^  the  fanaee  grat. 
ings.  There  I  sat,  as  wa 
of  these  tonnels  for  sboot  ten 
as  drr  as  a  bone,  and  as  warm  as  toast — but  I  fear  mm 
farther  inq>roved  as  regards  mj  original  state  of  sin. 

When  we  were  hungry  between  sksIs — hot  boys  are  al- 
ways hnngrr — we  woold  forage  for  potatoes 
body's  field,' and  roast  tiiem  in  the  hot  ashes  i 
venient  tunnels^    This  was  Ihe  asaal  eonrwitant  <tf 
self-drying  operations — the  tine  passed  aure  frfeaaantJ^ 

thoQght  that  we  would  eat^  smoos  eolds,  iheaaatim,  or 
some  other  sidmess,  bat  we  did  not,  thoo^  I  afaBOst  won- 
der myself  now  at  our  immnnity.  I  can  hmifstly  %xy  at 
about  fifty  years  of  age,  that  I  never  had  a  pain  nor  a^e 
in  mr  bones.  My  impression  is  tiiat  diildren  now  are 
far  too  mneh  pampered  np.  We  boys  of  Ottensen  fo-ty 
odd  years  ago  and  oar  parents  woold  hare 
flanncis;  we  would  have  had  none  of  it  My  who] 
as  fliat  of  most  boys,  eoBBSIed  of  a  pair  of  drill 
a  dnrt  and  bhrnse  ovmdl,  witk  a  leather  hA  arou 
waist,  boots  and  stoeidn^i,  and  cap  wiA  a 
peak  over  fte  fordKad.  Tliat  was  ssy  sole 
and  winter  alike,  rain  or  not^  Sosaetimes  what  it  was  ao 
intena^  eold  fliat  tlie  Ihiimiimiiii'  ssarked  40  degrees 
bdkiw  freesing  point,  my  moflier  would  inmst,  in  spite  of 
my  objeetions,  on  puttm^  a  mufler  or  scarf  around  niy 
tihroat :  but  no  sooner  was  I  round  ffe  first  coraer  Ikan  off 
cane  that  despised  thii^  and  was  carefiBlly  stowed  m  my 
Uonse  until  my  return  home:  for  why— I  £d  not  like  to 
be  lau^ied  at  by  my  adsiolmates. 

After  I  had  dried  mysrif  on  tiie  day  of  my  just  rriaied 
adventure,  we  procured  a  dedge    and    had  a  good 
with  that  <m  tjhe  h^  road  in-  a  few  bona,  antfl  it 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

time  to  go  home  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  awkward     ques- 
tions, endure  such  penalties  as  the  state  of  our  clothing 
or  some  other  cause  might  provoke  or  maternal  or  paterna 
feelings  counsel,   and  enjoy  our  evening    repasts— if  not 
sent  supperless  to  bed. 

Before  I  pass  from  this  eventful  day,  I  must  mention 
in  addition,  that  I  well  remember  the  impressively  beauti- 
ful sight  along  the  banks  of  the  river  on  that  occasion. 
For  miles  and  miles  on  both  sides  ice-blocks  lay  piled  up 
to  a  height  of  twelve  to  twenty  feet.  I  doubt  whether  in 
Greenland  itself  a  scene  of  that  nature  could  be  excelled; 
not  easily  at  any  rate.  You  may  think  I  exaggerate  in 
my  description,  but  I  will  explain  how  those  ice  masses 
were  formed.  The  ice-floes  in  the  river  are  often  forced 
one  upon  another,  another  on  these,  and  so  on.  All  firmly 
freezing  into  one  irregular  block.  When  the  flood-tide 
recedes  to  about  twenty  or  thirty  feet  from  high-water 
mark,  these  great  blocks  naturally  get  stranded,  so  form- 
ing the  icv  cliffs  I  have  referred  to. 


42 


CHAPTER  V. 

SCHOOLDAYS    CONTINUED. 

By  this  time  you  probably  think  you  have  got  hold  of 
some  ''Bad  Boy's  Diary."  I  have  been  rambling  on  so 
much  about  our  sports,  amusements  and  boyish  escapades 
(and  still  more  to  follow),  that  you  may  be  already  shak- 
ing a  disapproving  head,  jumping  at  the  reasonable  con- 
clusion that  I  must  have  been  a  sad  truant  from  school, 
and  in  your  perspicacious  sagacity,  quoting  to  yourself 
the  second  of  a  pair  of  famous  trite  old  sayings,  the  one 
seeming  opposite  to  my  case  being: 

"All  play  and  no  work 
Makes  Jack  a  lazy  Turk." 

If  so,  dear  reader,  you  never  made  a  greater  mistake. 
I  never  willingly  missed  a  day  from  school,  though  after 
my  mother's  death  I  was  frequently  kept  home  for  domes- 
tic reasons,  and  much  against  my  will.  I  was  always 
very  fond  of  learning,  and  positively  loved  going  to  school. 
This  was,  perhaps,  partly  due  to  the  really  excellent  teach- 
ing we  received,  for,  besides  being  sound  and  thorough,  it 
was  made  to  a  great  extent  highly  interesting,  and  if 
space  and  your  patience  would  permit,  I  should  like  to 
give  a  few  particulars.  I  must  content  myself  with  stat- 
ing that  we  were  taught  the  more  useful,  higher  subjects, 
in  addition  to  the  usual  essentials,  and  as  one  instance  of 
the  general  thoroughness,  I  may  mention  that  our  history 
lessons  were  not  confined,  as  might  be  supposed,  to  the  his- 
tory of  our  own  nation  or  country,  but  included  that  of 
other  leading  nations  and  of  the  world  generally.  Mor- 
alizing for  a  moment,  I  would  say,  that  I  wish  boys  and 
girls  could  realize  how  important  it  is  for  them  to  learn 
as  much  as  they  .  can  while  they  have  the  opportunity ;' 
theirs  is  a  poor  prospect  who  learn  nothing  or  even  but 
little,  because  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  they  will 
have  no  choice  but  to  become  the  slaves  of  others  whose 

4a 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

** knowledge  is  power."  Not  only  was  I  far  from  being 
a  ''lazy  Turk"  as  a  schoolboy,  but  though  there  may  be 
something  of  the  "Bad  Boy's  Diary"  element  in  these 
pages  further  on,  I  never  degenerated  into  a  lazy  Turk  in 
business,  as  events  will  show. 

Being  on  the  subject  of  school  once  more,  I  may  here 
add  that  when  I  was  in  the  second  class  (I  then  being 
about  ten  years  of  age)  our  teacher  resigned  in  order  to 
open  a  private  school.  There  were  four  candidates  for 
the  vacant  position,  and  each  had  to  teach  us  separately. 
When  this  competition  was  over,  we  were  invited  to  sa\ 
(our  church  minister  and  the  School  Council  being  pres- 
ent at  the  time)  which  teacher  we  liked  best.  We  were 
unanimously  in  favor  of  "the  little  short  one,'*'  and  he 
was  appointed.  He  may  not  have  shown  more  teaching 
ability  than  the  others,  but  he  was  a  very  affable  and  joc- 
ular man,  and  very  likely  we  took  into  consideration  that 
in  the  event  of  canings  being  administered  a  small  man 
would  be  greatly  preferable,  from  our  point  of  view,*  to 
one  of  more  formidable  physique,  I  don't  suppose  the 
authorities  were  influenced  entirely  by  our  choice;  prob- 
ably it  simply  accorded  with  their  own  judgment,  and 
they  may  have  merely  humored  us— seeing  our  evident 
preference  for  the  one  approved  by  themselves.  However 
that  might  have  been,  the  affair  itself  was  a  practical  rec- 
ognition and  adoption  of  the  principles  of  universal  suf- 
frage and  the  "Referendum"— even  in  a  constitutionally 
conservative  country,  and  so  many  years  ago !  With  that 
teacher,  he  being  such  a  "joky"  man,  we  afterwards  had 
a  great  deal  of  fun  and  good  times  generally.  He  had 
a  playful,  tactful  way  of  dealing  even  with  dullards 
and  the  idle,  for  there  are  some  such  in  every  school.  I 
suppose  many  of  them  cannot  help  being  so.  But  one 
day  this  teacher  had  the  laugh  turned  against  himself.  He 
was  explaining  the  four  points  of  the  compass,  and  for 
that  purpose  he  called  one  of  the  lazy  boys  from  his  seat 
and  made  him  walk  first  towards  the  east  and  then  to- 
wards the  west.  Then  the  boy  was  told  to  go  to  the  south ; 
this  course  led  him  to  the  schoolroom  door,  where  he  came 
to  a  standstill.     I  suppose  the  teacher  could  not  resist  the 

44 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

temptation  for  a  little  experimental  fun,  for  he  told  the 
traveler  to  "Go  further  south."  We  all  laughed,  either 
thinking  he  would  bump  his  nose  against  the  door,  or 
perhaps  anticipating  a  funnier  result  still.  But,  if  lazy, 
the  boy  was  not  dull-witted,  for  he  opened  the  door  and 
went  "further  south"  with  both  "propellers"  working  at 
"full  speed  ahead,"  regardless  of  further  orders  and 
signals  by  wireless  telegraphy  from  his  port  of  departure, 
and  we  saw  nothing  more  of  him  for  a  couple  of  weeks, 
when  he  was  brought  in  under  paternal  convoy.  He 
probably  remembers  better  than  I   do  the  sequel. 

About  this  time  a  professional  aeronaut  visited  Otten- 
sen  with  a  big  balloon.  Balloons  were  novelties  in  those 
days,  and  aroused  a  great  deal  of  public  interest.  Re- 
member, also,  that  crinolines  were  in  fashion  with  the  la- 
dies—you wonder  where  the  conne«tion  is?  This  balloon- 
ist used  to  make  an  ascent  at  3  o'clock  every  afternoon, 
taking  up  three  passengers,  the  fare  for  each  being  the 
equivalent  of  £3.  Naturally,  large  crowds  of  women, 
girls  and  boys  gathered  to  see  the  ascents  (women,  girls 
and  boys  being  the  part  of  the  population  most  af- 
fected by  curiosity  and  least  hampered  by  the  stern  de- 
mands of  business).  Always  on  the  lookout  for  mischief, 
the  keen  eyes  of  Johnnie  Husch  had  noticed  that  the  la- 
dies stood  closely  in  groups,  as  well  as  their  crinolines 
would  permit;  no  doubt  to  combine  the  joys  of  gossiping 
with  that  of  sightseeing.  His  alert  brain  saw  a  glorious 
opportunity  (he  would  have  made  a  brilliant  field  mar- 
shall)  ;  a  hasty  council  of  war  was  held  between  us  boys, 
a  needle  and  cotton  obtained,  and  while  the  ladies  were  in- 
tently gazing  upwards  at  the  rising  balloon,  and  forgetting 
all  about  skirts  and  boys  and  such  troubles  below,  we  very 
soon  had  several  of  them  sewn  pretty  firmly  together,  and 
got  to  a  prudent  distance  to  watch  results.  We  had  not 
long  to  wait,  for  ladies  are  restless  creatures.  One  of 
them  turned  sharply,  and  then  there  was  a  confusion  of 
twisting  skirts,  tilting  crinolines,  tearing  of  dresses, 
screams,  laughter,  and  not  a  little  very  fluent  feminine 
scolding,  for  some  of  the  ladies  were  terribly  angry,  and 
even  complained  to  the  police. 

^  "    UNIVERSITY 

OF 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

It  was  such  good  fun  (to  us)  that  we  tried  the  same 
game  again,  but  this  time  a  few  boys  g^t  caught,  and  in 
due  course  were  fined— that  is,  their  fathers  were  the  par 
ties  fined,  and  they  naturally  took  the  value  in  their  own 
coin  out  of  the  actual  culprits.  ' '  Boys  will  be  boys, ' '  and 
over  the  world  alike. 

One  day  one  of  the  intending  passengers  in  the  bal- 
loon "jibbed"  at  the  last  moment.  Perhaps  it  was  a  bit 
squally,  and  the  balloon  swaying  and  bumping,  somethig 
like  a  ship  sometimes  does  when  moored  to  a  pier.  The 
aeronaut  reasoned  and  coaxed  and  some  of  the  bystand- 
ers jeered,  but  all  in  vain.  Like  a  certain  skip- 
per, who  declined  to  handle  a  cobra  or  a  python  (I  forgot 
which)  though  taunted  with  cowardice,  saying,  "Wall, 
I'd  ruther  look  like  a  coward  for  five  minutes  than  like  a 
corpse  for  evermore. "  •  So  this  discreet  intending  passen- 
ger evidently  took  a  similar  sensible,  if  rather  chicken- 
hearted,  view  of  the  question,  even  though  his  prepaid  fare 
had  to  be  forfeited,  as  it  was  in  fact.  But  one  of  my 
bigger  schoolmates  was  offered  the  ' '  lift ' '  and  very  gladly 
accepted  it,  going  up  with  cap  waving  joyously,  and  a 
halo  of  future  glory  radiating  from  his  shining  round 
face— not  unlike  a  youthful  Elijah  ascending  in  a  heav- 
enly chariot— much  to  the  envy  of  us  little  Elishas. 


4G 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  NIGHT  WATCH. 

As  I  write,  I  hear  the  footsteps  of  the  night  watch- 
man who  is  engaged  to  look  after  the  safety  of  the  block 
of  shops  and  houses  where  I  am  now  residing.  Now  and 
then  I  can  hear  him  shake  a  door  or  gate,  and  sometimes 
whistle  a  few  bars  of  some  popular  melody.  He  reminds 
me  of  the  night  watchman  in  my  native  town  (though 
there  is  a  vast  deal  of  difference— in  favor  of  the  former) 
and  of  the  primitive  methods  adopted  by  the  City  Fathers, 
the  Town  Council  of  that  time,  to  protect  ( ? )  the  citizens 
during  the  hours  of  darkness.  Here  (in  a  leading  suburb 
of  Melbourne)  we  have  a  number  of  stalwart,  well-trained 
constables  constantly  patroling  the  streets;  detectives, 
plain-clothes  constables  with  bicycles,  telephones  at  their 
command,  as  also  at  ours,  the  streets  bright  with  electric 
lights  or  gas,  so  that  the  "way"  of  the  burglar  and 
other  night  prowlers  is  made  ''hard"  and  dangerous.  Our 
watchmen  are  only  supplementary  safeguards — the  police 
are  our  chief  protectors.  But  in  such  old-fashioned  little 
places  as  Ottensen  it  was  very  different  in  the  days  of  my 
boyhood.  So  far  as  protecting  citizens  was  concerned,  it 
was  a  Tom-fool  arrangement  altogether.  There  was  a 
watchman,  certainly,  but  he  wg^s  a  bent-backed,  decrepit 
old  man  of  about  seventy  years  of  age.  In  the  daytime 
he  followed  the  vocation  of  a  ''cobbler"  (i.  e.,  of  course, 
a  boot  repairer).  It  seemed  of  no  concern  to  the  City 
Fathers  as  to  when,  where,  or  how  he  slept,  or  whether 
he  slept  at  all.  Apparently  their  chief  concern  was  sim- 
ply to  get  the  duty  performed  as  cheaply  as  possible  and 
to  avoid  capturing  criminals  lest  their  maintenance  and 
prosecution  should  increase  the  municipal  expenditure. 
Though,  also,  the  facts  may  be  looked  at  in  the  light  of 
being  a  testimony  to  the  general  honesty  and  respectabil- 
ity of  the  place. 

However  that  may  be,  this  poor    old    cobbler-constable, 

47 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

the  watchman,  at  about  10  o'clock  in  the  evening  donned 
his  uniform,  which  was  a  big  overcoat  with  a  red  collar 
and  red  trimming  on  the  sleeve  cuffs.  For  a  weapon  he 
carried  a  thick  walking  stick,  and  for  some  mysterious 
reason  (about  which  many  very  plausible  theories  might 
be  formed),  he  also  carried  a  terribly  noisy  instrument 
called  a  ''rattle,"  consisting  of  a  long  wooden  haadle  ter- 
minating in  two  cog  wheels  or  ratchets,  and  against  these 
cogs  two  wooden  spring  arms  were  so  placed  that  they 
could  be  caused  to  revolve  rapidly  round  and  in  contact 
with  the  cogs,  so  that  a  most  terrific,  ear-splitting  rattling 
or  clattering  noise  was  produced,  something  like  that  from 
a  number  of  castanets  or  bones  as  used  by  nigger  min- 
strels, with  a  bit  of  creaking,  grating  screech  added.  He 
would  give  that  diabolical  contrivance  about  half  a  dozen 
turns,  and  then  at  the  top  of  his  voice  cry  out,  ' '  The  clock 
has  chimed  ten,  ten  is  the  clock,"  and  so  kept  on  alter- 
nately with  rattle  and  vociferation  until  eleven  o'clock, 
when  his  cry  became,  ''The  clock  has  chimed  eleven,  eleven 
is  the  clock,"  as  he  once  more  traversed  his  beat  from 
where  he  first  started,  for  it  took  him  just  about  an  hour 
to  do  so.  This  sort  of  thing  was  kept  up  till  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  We  of  modern  days  may  well  smile  at 
such  an  absurd  system,  which  had  every  appearance  of 
the  authorities  trying  their  very  best  to  keep  people  awake 
all  night;  but  I  don't  think  it  troubled  many,  as  in  those 
days  people  were  tougher,  less  irritable,  more  easy-going 
and  contented,  and  consequently  slept  more  soundly. 
Imagine  what  would  happen  if  the  watchman's  rattle  and 
strident  voice  were  to  be  heard  throughout  the  night  in 
our  streets  of  today!  Why,  windows  would  fly  up  in  all 
directions,  revealing  men  and  women  in  night  attire  rav- 
ing like  violent  lunatics  and  pouring  a  deluge  of  profane 
objurgations  upon  their  disturber's  head;  the  papers 
would  teem  wdth  scorching  letters,  and  as  for  the  City 
Councillors,  they  would  be  lucky  to  escape  with  anything 
less  than  "tarring  and  feathering"  at  the  hands  of  the 
outraged  rate-payers. 

It  will  be  easily  seen  that    any  actual     criminals  about 
would  be  the  last  people  to  do  or  wish  the  watohman  any 


48 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

injury;  they  would  look  upon  him  as  quite  a  friend,  or 
at  kast  his  rattle,  since  it  would  warn  them  of  his  ap- 
proach and  whereabouts;  the  only  offenders  he  would  be 
likely  to  discover  and  capture  would  be  any  ''dead 
drunks"  lying  promiscuously  around.  Still,  after  all, 
there  may  have  been  a  little  more  wisdom  than  appears 
on  the  surface  in  the  arrangement;  because,  you  see,  the 
Germans,  being  notoriously  a  highly  musical  race,  it  might 
well  be  that  even  their  criminals,  if  awake,  would  keep  as 
far  away  as  possible  from  such  unmusical  discord,  and 
thus  the  main  objects  of  the  law  would  be  achieved. 


49 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SKULL  AND  CBOSSBONES  THEATRE. 

We  Ottensen  boys  were  enthusiastic  patrons  of  the 
drama — not  of  your  classic  Shakespearean  school,  not  of 
your  dainty,  artistic,  scenic,  fastidious,  social-problemiz- 
ing,  moddern  pattern;  no  namby-pamby  stuff  for  us;  we 
wanted— and  we  got— something  strong,  something  with  a 
good  fiz  on  it,  something  that  would  make  the  flesh  creep 
and  furnish  nightmares  enough  to  carry  you  into  next 
week.  Just  call  to  mind,  dear  reader,  those  fearsome, 
nerve-thrilling,  entrancing  books  with  sensational  covers 
you  used  to  delight  in  yourself— you  can't  deny  it  (many 
of  you) — those  books  about  pirates,  murders,  ghosts,  and 
every  horror  ever  imagined,  and  you  will  have  a  pretty 
fair  idea  of  our  tastes  in  the  theatrical  line.  And  you, 
ye  few  who  never,  no  never,  read  such  ''trash,"  as  you 
scornfully  'stigmatize  it— never  revelled  then,  or  now,  in 
newspaper  horrors  (do  you?)  and  the  details  of  ''causes 
celebre"— permit  me  a  question.  Have  you  ever  gloated 
upon  the  persecutions  of  martyrs?  As  children,  did  you 
not,  even  amongst  Bible  stories,  find  a  special  fascination 
about  Goliath's  gory  head,  and  the  like?  You  smile;  I 
have  you  there,  I  think.  Condemn  us  not,  then,  for  again 
"One  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin;"  or, 
more  coarsely  expressed,  we  are  all  "tarred  with  the 
same  brush"  in  such  matters. 

And  we  wanted  our  drama  cheap,  for  as  you  may  guess, 
our  resources  were  scant,  and  we  got  it  cheap,  "nasty" 
also,  if  you  like;  but  at  all  events  we  got  with  it  some 
roaring  fun,  as  I  think  you  will  admit— spontaneous,  un- 
rehearsed fun,  and,  perhaps,  after  all,  that  was  one  of  the 
greatest  attractions  to  us. 

Amongst  its  many  noble  buildings,  Hamburg  boasted 
some  really  fine  theatres,  one  of  which,  the  Stadt  Theatre. 
There  were  also  the  usual  assortment  of  concert  and  music 
halls  and  the  like,  besides  band  pavilions  and  all  the  mis- 

50 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

cellaneous  amusement  places  of  a  great  city.  But  I  want  to 
take  you  to  one  of  the  lower  kinds. 

On  one  of  the  chief  roads  or  boulevards  leading  west 
from  Hamburg,  in  a  quarter  of  the  city  known  as  St. 
Pauli,  where  the  shipping  in  the  river  is  dense,  and  rol- 
licking sailor  men  swarm  in  thousands,  and  an  aroma  of 
tar  and  many  varieties  of  cargo,  and  of  cattle,  and  of 
slaughter  yards,  pervades  the  atmosphere ;  the  sides  of  the 
streets  are  lined  with  more  or  less  imposing  attractions  in 
the  shape  of  beer  saloons,  gin  palaces,  places  of  entertain- 
ment, fruit  and  confectionary  shops,  and  sundry  less  pre- 
tentious edifices  impertinently  elbowing  in  between 
** Punch  and  Judy"  shows,  booths,  and  similar  itinerant 
devices  were  also  usually  to  be  found  on  or  near  the  side- 
walks, especially  on  Sunday  afternoons  and  other  gala 
occasions;  for  Sailor  Jack  is,  as  you  know,  a  most  liberal 
spender  and  a  glutton  for  pleasures. 

Day  and  night  the  whole  thoroughfare  is  thronged,  so 
that  naturally  a  large  quantity  of  custom  and  profit  drifts, 
like  seaweed  along  a  shore,  into  the  inviting  establish- 
ments and  shows  lining  the  way. 

One  of  the  most  widely-known  and  well  patronized  of 
these  caterers  for  public  indulgence  was  a  certain  theatre. 
It  was  not  by  any  means  a  palatial  edifice  like  those  with 
which  we  are  familiar  in  large,  up-to-date  cities,  such  as 
there  were,  as  has  already  been  said,  in  Hamburg.  It 
stood  on  the  right  hand  side  coming  from  Altona,  and 
was  a  very  plain,  stuccoed  brick  building  of  two  stories. 
The  entrance  was  simply  a  double  swing  door,  such  as 
are  common  in  churches  and  schools,  reached  by  a  short 
flight  of  steps,  an  ordinary  window  on  each  side,  and 
three  more  of  the  same  kind  in  a  row  above.  Inside  the 
door  was  a  porch  with  a  ticket  window  and  office  on  the 
left  hand  side.  The  interior  of  this  Temple  of  the  Drama 
was  in  strict  keeping  with  the  outside;  no  architectural 
or  artistic  embellishments,  no  luxurious  furnishing,  no 
dress  circle  nor  private  boxes,  no  resplendent  lighting,  not 
even  paint  on  the  bare  walls,  no  decorations  except  a  few 
lower-grade  drop  scenes  for  the  stage.  The  floor  space 
was  occupied  with  plain  wooden  forms  with  backs,    this 


k 


51 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

portion  of  the  house  being  dignified  with  the  name  of  '^the 
Stalls."  A  rough,  unpainted  wooden  gallery  extended 
round  three  of  the  walls,  this  gallery  being  supported  by 
wooden  posts.  It  was  reached  by  a  single  flight  of  stairs 
from  the  right  hand  side  of  the  porch,  but  not  connected 
with  the  latter.  In  this  gallery  the  only  seating  accom- 
modations consisted  of  common  wooden  forms  without 
backs— quite  enough  for  the  fee  for  admission,  too,  as 
you  will  find  in  due  course.  Quite  good  enough,  as  also 
were  the  "Stalls,"  for  their  respective  patrons.  For 
though  notorious  and  popular  in  its  way,  this  theatre  was 
not  the  customary  resort  of  Wealth  and  Fashion,  al- 
though frequently  visited  by  great  people,  especially 
strangers  in  Hamburg,  who  desired  to  see  its  interesting 
sights  and  obtain  all  the  fun  available  for  their  money. 
Its  regular  patrons  were  drawn  mainly  from  the  multi- 
tudes of  sailors  of  all  nationalities  always  swarming  in 
that  great  seaport  (for  year  in  and  year  out  there  used  to 
be  generally  about  three  hundred  ships  lying  there)  ;  from 
the  free  and  easy  lassies  and  dames  who  are  ever  ready  to 
help  a  Jack,  or  any  other  spendthrift,  disburse  his  loose 
cash  with  promptness  and  dispatch;  from  the  usual  as- 
sortment of  workers,  small  tradesmen,  factory  and  servant 
girls,  and  loafers;  and  not  least,  if  mentioned  last,  from 
the  boy  population  of  the  city  and  its  neighborhood. 

We  boys  from  the  outlaying  towns  and  villages  usually 
attended  this  fheatre  on  Sundays,  whenever  on  that  day 
we  could  muster  between  several  of  us  the  few  necessary 
coins.  No  little  financial  scheming  and  adroitness  this 
sometimes  required.  "Adolph, "  perhaps  my  chum,  Aman- 
dus  Husch,  would  say  during  the  week, ' '  will  you  go  to  Mad- 
dler's  (the  proprietor  of  this  theatre)  on  Sunday,  I 
have  a  thirdling,  and  Hermann  Plett  has  two,  and 
Louis  Prahl  's  aunt  has  promised  him  something  to  go ;  can 
you  get  some  money?"  "No,"  perhaps  I  would  have  to 
reply,  "IMother  said  she  would  not  let  me  have  any  money 
for  two  weeks  because  I  spoiled  my  new  cap  the  other 
day."  But  in  one  way  and  another  with  a  bit  here  and  a 
bit  there,  about  a  dozen  of  us  would  raise  fivepence  or  six- 
pence in  English  value  between  us,  and  by  phenomenal 

62 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

good  behavior  on  Saturday  and  on  Sunday  morning  we 
would  coax  consent  from  parents,  and  set  off  after  Sun- 
day's, dinner  in  high  spirits  and  clean  collars. 

Digressing  a  little,  you  may  think  it  strange  that  mere 
children  should  be  allowed  to  go  to  such  a  place  on  Sun- 
days; but  in  all  the  continental  countries  of  Europe  the 
Sabbath  as  a  religious  institution  is  practically  over  at 
noon-day,  and  during  the  latter  part  of  the  day  all  the 
places  of  amusement  are  open.  ''But"  you  say,  ''has  not 
such  a  custom  a  very  bad  influence  upon  the  young?"  I 
reply  that  I  do  not  think  so.  As  I  informed  a  good  lady 
of  Tasmania  who,  in  reference  to  this  question,  had  ex- 
pressed an  opinion  that  there  must  be  a  great  deal  of 
wickedness  in  my  native  country.  There  is  no  greater 
number  of  criminals  in  Germany  in  proportion  to  its  popu- 
lation than  in  this  or  any  other  country.  And  I  also  think 
that  any  other  test  would  prove  that  the  moral  tone  of 
Germany  will  bear  favorable  comparison  with  that  of  any 
nation. 

Well,  with  the  normal  amount  of  skylarking  and  mis- 
chief incidental  to  boyhood,  and  having  come  through 
such  perils  as  may  have  naturally  resulted  therefrom,  we  ar- 
rive at  our  destination.  The  street  is  thronged  with  all 
kinds  of  people,  a  kaleidoscope  of  every  tint  of  color., 
gentlefolk  in  costly  fashionable  attire,  country  people  and 
workmen  and  their  families  in  their  best  clothes,  sailors,  (a 
number  of  whom  are  in  various  stages  of  drunkenness) 
soldiers,  officers,  young  couples  "keeping  company,"  small 
fry  in  shoals,  cripples,  beggars,  match  and  flower  sellers, 
and  the  whole  rag-tag  and  bob-tail  of  civilization. 

And  here  before  the  theatre  we  seek,  is  one  of  the  sev- 
eral small  loitering  crowds,  just  in  front  of  the  building, 
—some  in  fact  on  its  steps— is  a  strange  little  group,  male 
and  female,  garbed  as  if  they  were  all  stark  crazy,  for 
surely  such  raiment  is  not  to  be  found  in  all  sane  Christ- 
endom; yet  their  faces  do  not  look  like  those  of  maniacs 
or  idiots,  they  are  the  pictures  of  cool  self-possession  and 
dignified  indifference,  the  attitudes .  gracefully  statuesque 
and  imposing,  any  casual  movement  easy  and  impressive 
in  its  practical  deliberation— for,  as  you  have  most  indub- 


k 


63 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

itably  guessed,  they  are  the  actors  and  actresses  in  their 
stage  costumes,  and  "Chief  among  that  gallant  throng," 
its  centre  and  apex— for  he  stands  on  the  topmost  step 
before  the  open  doorway  and  is  declaiming  in  a  very  loud 
and  clear  ringing  voice,  with  free  gesticulations  by  way  of 
emphasis — is  a  magnificent  personage  in  glittering  armour 
and  a  helmet  with  nodding  plumes  and  a  rich  mantle  hang- 


jS?/ l«.li2ii>'l_tMi^*..Jii<  y-j 


'kW 

ing  in  graceful  folds  from  his  shoulders— like  some  hero 
of  ancient  chivalry  (only  the  most  likely  "more  so"). 
This  gorgeous  being  is  the  lessee,  manager,  and  leading 
actor,  Mr.  Maddler,  only  his  present  "role"  is  advertis- 
ing the  play  about  to  be  performed— nor  does  the  ludic- 
rous incongruity  of  his  get-up  and  of  the  infra  dignitatis 


54 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

nature  of  his  self-imposed  office  as  crier  seem  in  the  least 
to  disturb  him.  He  is  a  large  man  of  strikingt  physique, 
clean  shaved,  and  with  short  black  hair ;  but  there  is 
something  remarkably  queer  about  his  face;  from  a  side 
view  he  seems  to  have  scarcely  any  nose — merely  a  small 
round,  knobby  projection  between  his  prominent  chin  and 
his  heavy  eyebrows;  looking  at  you  full-face  there  is  a 
nose  right  enough,  but  it  looks  as  though  it  had  been 
violently  driven  inwards  leaving  a  pear-shaped  depression 
around,  from  which  it  now  appears  to  be  timidly  peeping 
—in  two  minds  whether  to  spring  boldly  to  its  proper  posi- 
tion or  retreat  for  good  and  slam  the  door! 

His  keen  dark  eye  ranges  rapidly  over  bystanders  and 
passers  by — all-seeing,  searchingly,  imperiously,  yet  in- 
definitely and  with  an  expression  of  cold  contempt  and 
self-sufficiency — you  feel  that  he  has  specially  singled  you 
out  and  is  keeping  the  corner  of  his  eye  upon  you — here 
and  there  he  fixes  a  hypnotic  stare  upon  some  irreverent 
jester  and  makes  him  duck  and  cringe  as  though  he  were 
apprehensive  of  being  challenger  to  mortal  combat  by  this 
Mars-like  champion.  Now  and  again  he  casts  a  javelin 
of  heavy  satire  at  some  too  offending  wight,  who  collapses 
under  it  and  the  grinning  notice  of  the  adjacent  public; 
the  heavy  villain  of  the  troupe  scowls  undreamt  of  pains 
to  follow  further  impertinence;  the  clown  rubs  the  sting- 
ing salt  of  mimic  sympathy  into  the  wound  made;  and  oh 
most  miserable  wretch  and  fool  that  you  are  who  have 
drawn  upon  yourself  in  addition  the  icy  scorn  of  the 
queenly  beauty  (if  not  too  much  paint)  of  the  star  lady 
of  the  company!  But  these  are  fleeting  trivalities,  passing 
shadows. 

The  mouth  of  the  tinsel-mailed  actor-orator  is  going  like 
clockwork,  or,  to  be  more  exact,  like  some  steam  worked  au- 
tomator,  as  with  professional  articulation  and  in  brassy 
tones  he  cries  something  in  the  following  style:  ''Come  in, 
come  in,  ladies  and  gentlemen;  here  you  have  an  hour's  en- 
tertainment of  the  most  exciting  character.  Today  we  pro- 
duce for  the  first  time  the  grieat  murder  case  of  Timm  Lode, 
who  cruelly  murdered  his  father,  mother,  sister,  and  four 

55 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

brothers— Come  in,  come  in— admission  to  the  stalls  only 
3d.  6c.,  galleries  2d.  4c.,  children  half-price." 

This  hair  and  curiosity  raising  invitation  he  glibly  re- 
peats, with  variations  and  embellishments,  until  the  inflow 
of  an  audience  is  sufficient,  or  until  impatient  "cat-calls" 
and  other  noises  from  within  or  else  his  own  conscience  com- 
pel him  to  cease  in  order  to  begin  the  performance,  which 
begins  at  three  o'clock. 

What  connection  there  was  between  the  showy  garb  of 
the  actors  "on  view"  and  such  a  gruesome  tragedy  may 
seem  a  mystery,  but  doubtless  the  former  was  due  to  ad- 
vertising considerations,  the  necessity  of  first  catching  the 
public  eye. 

But  we  must  get  inside  Herr  Maddler's.  We  boys  used 
to  negotiate  this  little  matter  fairly  well,  and,  indeed,  with 
conspicious  Bismarckian  diplomacy.  We  slip  round  a 
handy  side-street  corner  two  doors  away,  we  elect  a  depu- 
tation of  one  of  our  number,  that  responsible  individual 
being  of  satisfactory  antecedents  (in  other  words,  "with- 
out reproach)"  in  the  eyes  of  Maddler,  as  may  be  avail- 
able amongst  us.  We  entrust  him  with  our  combined  cash 
say  about  6  or  7d.  in  all ;  he  is  sent  aheai  to  act  as  bargain- 
maker  while  the  rest  of  us  maintain  our  strategic  position 
well  out  of  sight — painfully  conscious  of  former  misdo- 
ings and  threats  of  non-admission  in  future.  Meekly  and 
respectfully  our  delegate  broaches  to  the  majestic  grandee 
the  question  of  our  admittance  on  specially  reduced  terms 
as  a  collective  juvenile  "theatre  party."  The  much  ex- 
perienced and  suspicious  Maddler  first  enquires  as  to  the 
total  sum  at  our  command,  how  many  of  us  there  are 
"rmind  the  corner,"  and  if  So-and-So  or  So-and-So  (boys 
in  his  bad  books)  are  there.  After  further  cross-examina- 
tion and  an  admonition,  a  bargain  is  struck.  There  were 
almost  invariably  about  twice  as  many  boys  as  the  funds 
legitimately  represented,  but  he  was  not  very  particular 
as  to  a  few  "dead-heads"  if  only  he  could  fill  the  house 
without  actual  loss;  besides,  I  think  he  was  a  good-natured 
man— "his  bark  worse  than  his  bite." 

So,  a  preconcerted  signal  being  made  to  us  as  soon  as 
his  *  *  alright,  get  in  "  is  obtained,  we  appear  gradually  with 

56 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

most  consumate  tact,  {our  best  samples  first)  in  a  long  and 
to  a  igreat  extent  guilt-smitten  procession,  Johnnie  Husch 
and  a  few  of  the  rest  of  us  taking  special  precautions  to 
conceal  our  identity  and  cover  our  manifold  sins  and 
wickedness  as  much  as  possible  behind  the  more  righteous. 
Often,  several  boys  not  in  our  party  and  the  contract 
would  sandwich  themselves  in  with  us,  much  to  the  dis- 
credit of  our  first  bargainer  as  to  his  truthfulness.  As 
we  file  in,  one  or  two  of  us  are  favored  with  a  pinch  or 
flip  of  the  ear  by  way  of  disapproving  recognition  and  of 
warnings. 

But  at  last  we  are  in  and  all  preliminary  troubles  for- 
gotten, and  straightway  the  most  incorrigible,  Johnnie 
Hnsch  and  Louis  Prahl  amongst  them,  of  course,  im- 
mediately launch  into  mischief  of  some  sort,  if  merely  by 
such  mild  means  as  pea-shooters,  for  the  interior  is  in  semi- 
darkness,  so  that  mischief  with  safety  is  easy!  We  as- 
cend the  stairs  to  the  gallery  just  in  time  to  see  an  in- 
distinct figure  slide  down  one  of  the  posts  to  the  more 
select  stalls,  a  not  uncommon  event;  one  or  two  of  our 
party  must  needs  do  the  same,  and  perhaps  all  would  fol- 
low, but  that  the  aristocracy  below  firmly  resent  such  in- 
trusion and  the  commotion  brings  Maddler  into  action 
with  dire  threats  of  expulsion. 

Amidst  general  restlessness  and  occasional  uproar  the 
play  begins  and  proceeds  with  varying  applause  or  other- 
wise, sometimes  tumult  making  the  voices  of  the  actors  in- 
audible and  the  play  an  empty  dumb-show.  Occasionally, 
when  the  noise  in  the  gallery  was  above  normal,  Maddler 
would  stop  the  play  and  first  turning  to  the  occupants  of 
the  stalls  with,  *' Excuse  me,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  for  a 
moment,"  he  would  then  vehemently  shake  his  fist  at  us 
unruly  "gods"  above  and  apostrophize  us  something  like 
this:  "You  braying  young  scoundrels  up  there,  you  un- 
mannerly jackanapes,  will  you  keep  quiet,  or  must  I  come 
up  and  shake  you  out  of  your  nonsense— and  your  boots, 
if  you  have  any  ? '  '•  adding  perhaps  a  few  more  remarks  of 
the  most  biting  colloquil  invective  which  his  abilities 
could  furnish— the  result  being  roars  of  laughter  and  re- 
sumption of  the  play  in  comparative  calm  and  tobacco 

57 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

smoke,  for  the  "house"  was  in  the  habit  of  regaling  it- 
self according  to  its  individual  tastes, — fruits,  conversa- 
tion and  other  lollies,  cake,  biscuits,  sandwiches,  ginger- 
beer,  smoking  and  goodness  knows  what,  one  natural  con- 
sequence being  some  sharpshooting  with  orange  peel,  ap- 
ple cores  and  other  such  missiles.  Another  consequence 
was  that  the  floors  were  much  littered  with  rubbish.  Noisy 
quarrels  and  fights  were  not  uncommon,  sometimes  a  regu- 
lar melee,  and  then  the  police  would  be  sent  for. 

The  actors  were,  of  course,  greatly  handicapped  under 
such  conditions,  and  when  the  play  did  not  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  audience  come  up  to  specifications  the  ag- 
grieved public  would  enthusiastically  bombard  the  unfor- 
tuate  performers  with  rotten  eggs  and  apples. 

A  favorite  plan  of  Maddler's  for  dealing  with  the  more 
serious  disturbances  was  to  get  the  fireman  on  duty  in  the 
gallery  to  turn  the  fire-hose  on  the  over-heated  parties— a 
splendid  method  of  treatment  in  such  cases— cools  things 
down  nicely,  of  course,  except  feminine  inhabitants  of 
showy  drapery  which  may  happen  to  get  drenched  or 
splashed;  then  a  fiercer  confiagration  would  arise,  and  I 
suppose  poor  Maddler  had  a  bad  time  and  depleted 
pockets  through  damages  claimed.  Otherwise,  the  deluge 
of  water  did  more  good  than  harm,  by  cleaning  the  place 
a  bit — which  it  often  badly  needed. 

The  play  only  lasted  about  one  hour,  and  was  then  re- 
peated to  a  refilled  house— after  the  necessary  announce- 
ment outside.  Some  of  us  boys  used  to  have  a  strong  de- 
sire to  see  the  performance  over  again,  and  for  that  pur- 
pose would  hide  ourselves  under  the  gallery  forms,  and 
when  the  fresh  batch  of  customers  began  to  take  their 
seats  there  would  be  a  ressurection  of  us  dust-smeared 
youngsters,  much  to  the  amusement  or  the  virtuous  indig- 
nation, as  the  case  might  be,  of  the  new-comers.  But  that 
dodge  did  not  work  very  long,  for  Maddler  got  wind  of  it 
and  one  Sunday  when  we  were  trying  this  little  game 
again,  to  our  consternation  Maddler's  heavy  tread  as- 
cended the  gallery  stairs,  and  Maddler  in  all  his  stage  glory 
appeared  to  our  horrified  sight  in  the  gallery  itself,  and 
was  armed    with     a    long     clothe 's   prop     and    with    it 

58 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

poked  us  ignominiously  and  painfully  out  from  our  lairs. 
And  this  process  became  a  settled  habit  of  his  from  that 
day. 

But  a  few  years  later  the  poor  fellow ' became  insane; 
can  you  wonder  at  it?  For  my  part,  T  have  little  doubt 
that  his  troublesome  patrons  were  the  cause.  The  only 
surprise  is  that  he  kept  his  senses  as  long  as  he  did.  How- 
ever, he  recovered  after  a  time  and  reopened  his  theatre 
but  the  place  wns  so  notorious  for  brawls  and  disorderly 
conduct  that  ultimately  the  City  Council  closed  it,  and  by 
way  of  some  compensation  to  poor  Maddler  gave  him  a 
billet  as  Town  Bell-man— another  instance  of  "How  are 
the  mighty  fallen."  He  still  held  that  office  when  I  emi- 
grated to  Australia  in  1885. 


59 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AN    ATROCIOUS    MURDER— GERMAN    GIRLS— AND    A    ROMANTIC 

EPISODE. 

The  tragedy  casually  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter  was 
an  actual  one  perpetrated  about  the  year  1860  near  a 
town  named  Itzehoe,  barely,  thirty  miles  northwest  from 
Hamburg,  and  made  a  great  commotion  at  the  time. 

This  Timm  Tode  was  a  son  of  a  farmer.  One  day  as  the 
whole  family  except  Mrs.  Tode  (who  remained  at  home  to 
prepare  meals,  were  working  as  usual  in  the  fields,  this 
young  demon  found  some  pretense  to  return  home  early, 
He  killed  his  poor  old  mother  .with  an  axe,  and  then 
lurked  behind  the  front  door  to  strike  down  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  familj^  as  they  returned  one  by  one.  This  he 
succeeded  too  well  in  doing  until  the  last  two,  his  sister 
and  another  brother  arrived  in  company. 

It  was  winter  time— short  days  and  dark  early.  The 
last  brother  entered  the  door  before  his  sister  and  was  at 
once  felled.  The  sister,  however,  saw  the  awful  deed,  and 
at  once  bravely  rushed  upon  and  grappled  with  her  mur- 
derous brother.  How  terrible  must  have  been  the  poor 
girl's  emotions  as  she  strove  desperately  for  life!  In  his 
confession  subvsequently,  the  murderer  stated  that  it  was  a 
frightful  struggle;  but  at  last  she,  too,  was  butchered, 
and  this  odiously  inhuman  monster  then  set  fire  to  the 
building,  burning  it  and  the  bodies,  in  order  to,  as  he 
hoped,  destroy  all  traces  of  his  crime.  But  his  plan 
throughout  was  to  make  it  appear  that  the  fire  was  only 
a  terrible  accident,  he  only  being  fortunate  enough  to  es- 
cape, and  so  obtain  the  handsome  sum  for  which  the  place 
was  insured.  This  horrible  plan  succeeded  up  to  a  cer- 
tain point,  for  he  actually  did  get  paid  the  insurance 
money,  and  was  on  board  an  American  steamer  about  to 
sail  from  Hamburg  when  he  was  arrested,  suspicion  hav- 
ing been  aroused  and  a  strong  case  established  against  him. 
With  the  arrant  cowardice  and  despair  to  which  such  na- 

60 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

tures  and  ^ilty  consciences  are  liable  he  made  a  full  and 
abject  confession  and  was  executed  in  Hamburg. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  a  girl  should  be  able  to  make 
so  desperate  a  struggle  against  a  fierce  man  as  in  the  case 
cited  above;  but  German  country  girls  owing  to  the 
healthly,  hard-working  lives  they  lead, — for  they  do  the 
same  kind  of  work  in  the  fields  as  boys  do,  are  generally  as 
strong  as  the  latter;  they  are,  for  instance,  as  able  to 
carry  a  bag  of  potatoes  as  men  are. 

Having  in  the  last  and  this  chapter  treated  of  the  stage 
and  tragedy,  I  may  as  well  give  here  as  anywhere  a  little 
bit  of  romantic  comedy  in  which  an  actor  was  concerned. 

When  I  was  about  seven  or  eight  years  old  I  had  one 
evening  been  not  long  in  bed  and  was  still  awake,  when, 
after  a  rap  at  the  door,  a  visitor  came  into  the  same 
room.  It  was  a  man,  an  acquaintance  of  my  step-father, 
and  he  was  very  agitated,  crying  bitterly,  in  fact;  and 
very  naturally  I  kept  my  ears  open  and  lay  quiet,  feign- 
ing sleep.  This  man  had  been  ''keeping  company^'  as 
the  phrase  goes,  with  a  widow  who  lived  next  door  to  us, 
and  who  was  highly  educated  and  very  proud  indeed  of 
her  own  family  and  connection;  but  ''fine  feathers  do  not 
make  fine  birds,"  nor  fine  relatives  a  truly  fine  lady. 

This  visitor  told  my  stepfather  and  my  mother  that  he 
had  that  very  evening  and  but  a  few  minutes  before  called 
unexpectedly  at  the  widow's  house.  Instead  of  welcom- 
ing him  as  usual  she  seemed  very  constrained  and  excited, 
and  unwilling  to  ask  him  in,  which  at  last  she  perfunctor- 
ily did.  He  went  in,  but  she  was  so  nervous  and  fidgety 
and  altogether  strange  in  her  manner  that  he  felt  uneasy, 
thinking  something  serious  must  be  wrong.  His  questions 
only  made  her  agitation  worse,  and  at  last  his  suspicions 
were  aroused,  though  exactly  how  I  cannot  say.  Perhaps 
he  was  naturally  of  jealous  disposition,  or  he  may  have 
noticed  some  tell-tale  article.  But  suspicious  he  was,  and 
either  as  the  result  of  a  dispute  on  the  subject,  or  when 
the  lady  was  out  of  the  room  for  a  minute  or  two,  he  made 
a  search.  Now  the  fireplaces  in  most  houses  were  large 
and  in  winter-time  when  not  in  use  were  closed  up  with 
shutters  to  prevent  a  cold  draught  from  the  chimney,  a 

61 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

stove  in  the  room  being  used  for  cooking  purposes  and 
warming  the  room  at  the  same  time.  Of  course  this  closed 
fireplace  was  one  of  the  first  places  he  looked  into,  and 
there  behind  the  shutter  sure  enough  he  discovered  a  man 
stowed  away,  a  man  in  most  fashionable  clothing  but  in  a 
nice  state  with  soot.  Of  course,  too,  there  was  a  terrible 
scene,  a  violent  struggle  between  the  men,  and  very  nearly 
murder,  with  the  widow  in  hysterics.     It  transpired  that 


the  hidden  lover  was  an  actor  belonging  to  a  company 
then  in  our  town.  My  stepfather's  friend  came  straight 
to  our  place  after  this  trying  experience  to  unburden  some 
of  his  grief,  which  was  terrible  to  witness,  the  man  sob- 
bing and  moaning  uncontrollably;  while  I,  forgotten  alto- 
gether by  this  time,  was  looking  on  in  wonder  to  see  a  man 
in  such  condition,  as  at  that  age  I  could  not,  of  course, 
know  what  it  is  for  a  man  to  have  his  heart  broken  by  the 


62 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

faithlessness  of  the  woman  he  loves ;  later  in  life  this  bitter 
experience  befell  myself. 

The  double-dealing  widow  lost  both  her  lovers  through 
this  affair,  and,  perhaps  because  of  the  unpleasant  notor- 
iety she  obtained,  never  had  another  chance  of  marriage 
after. 


63 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN    APPARITION  — MORE    BOYISH    PRANKS— TROUBLES— 
MOTHERLESS. 

When  I  was  between  ten  and  eleven  years  of  age  I  suf- 
fered the  greatest  loss  any  child  can  experience — the  loss 
of  my  mother;  from  that  time  my  really  serious  troubles 
began.  Though  years  of  hard  toil,  privation,  and  anxie- 
ties no  doubt  played  their  part  in  undermining  her  health, 
1  feel  sure  that  her  death  was  in  great  measure  more  di- 
rectly attributable  to  intense  mental  anguish  and  strain 
entailed  upon  her  by  the  conduct  of  my  stepfather.  He 
was  by  no  means  a  bad  sort  of  man  in  the  main.  As  I 
have  before  said  he  treated  me  well  and  I  believe  he  de- 
sired to  treat  mother  kindly  and  dutifully  also.  His  fault 
was  that  he  was  what  is  known  as  morally  weak,  altogether 
lacking  in  will-power  over  himself.  He  had  constant  em- 
ployment as  a  carpenter  and  joiner  with  a  gin  manufac- 
turer. Unfortunately  all  the  hands  were  permitted  to 
drink  as  much  gin  as  they  liked,  the  result  being  that  my 
stepfather,  having  such  little  self-restraint,  too  often 
came  home  badly  intoxicated.  As  one  special  instance,  I 
remember  that  one  wild  wintry  evening  my  poor  mother 
waited  tea  for  him  till  about  ten  o'clock,  when  he  was 
brought  home  in  a  frightful  state,  I  being  in  bed  but 
awake.  It  was  a  fearful  night,  the  rain  pouring  down  in 
ceaseless  torrents,  ever  seeming  harder  and  harder  and 
the  ground  one  sheet  of  slush.  Mother  had  everything 
ready  and  the  room  bright  and  warm,  and  now  and  then 
would  go  to  the  door  to  see  if  father  was  in  sight  or  sound. 
At  last  a  heavy  knock  came  at  the  door  and  I  heard  a 
strange  deep  voice  speaking  with  mother  and  my  step- 
father's thick  drunken  tones;  then  heavy  stumbling  feet 
on  the  stairs,  and  as  I  looked  out  from  under  the  blankets 
when  they  entered  the  room  I  saw  a  huge  Danish  soldier 
in  a  dark  overcoat  and  with  a  shako  on  his  head  half  car- 
rying and  half  dragging  my  stepfather  in.  They  were 
covered  in  mud,  my  stepfather  feeing  positively  saturated 

64 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

with  it  and  with  rain.  He  had  fallen  in  the  deep  slush 
about  two  miles  from  home  and  was  unable  to  rise  again ; 
but  this  soldier  coming  along  my  stepfather  spoke  to  him 
in  the  Danish  language  and  the  good-natured  Dane  took 
pity  on  my  father  and  not  only  helped  him  to  his  feet,  but 
took  the  trouble  to  bring  him  all  that  wet  muddy  two  miles 
home.  It  must  have  been  a  terrible  job,  what  with  the  dis- 
tance, the  rain,  and  my  stepfather's  all  but  helpless  condi- 
tion! The  mud  on  the  soldier  was,  of  course,  from  sup- 
porting my  father.  I  must  admit  that  was  the  worst  state 
I  ever  saw  the  latter  in;  but  nevertheless  he  was  so  fre- 
quently more  or  less  the  worse  for  drink  that  I  know  my 
poor  mother  was  caused  intense  grief  and  worry,  and  at 
last  broke  down  completely.  Her  nervous  system  was  shat- 
tered and  serious  complications  had  arisen,  her  heart  es- 
pecially being  greatly  weakened.  There  being  nobody  to 
look  after  her  properly,  she  had  to  be  taken  to  the  hos- 
pital, where,  after  lingering  a  forenight,  she  died.  Long 
years  ago  as  it  is,  I  cannot  forget— nor  would  if  I  could. 
Since  then  I  have  been  a  man  of  the  world,  with  many  of 
such  men's  failings,  and  you  must  judge  me  by  facts  I 
give  herein;  but  I  say  once  more  that  for  the  sake  of  my 
own  dear  mother,  all  mothers  are  sacred  to  me,  and  any 
youthful  readers  I  would  remind  of  the  well-known  lines: 

*'Be  kind  to  thy  mother, 

For  when  thou  wast  young 

Who  loved  thee  as  fondly  as  she? 

She    caught  the   first    accents   that    fell 

from  thy  tongue, 
And  joined  in  thine  innocent  glee. 

Be  kind  to  thy  mother  for  thee  will  she 

pray 
As  long  as  God  lendeth  her  breath ; 
With  accents  of  kindness  then  cheer  her 

lone  way. 
E'en  to  the  dark  valley  of  death." 
A  very  strange  incident  happened  in  connection  with 
my  mother's  death.      As   the   doctor    informed    my    step- 
father afterwards,  day  and  night  she  was  calling  for  me, 

65 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

showing  that  her  whole  thought  must  have  been  centered 
upon  her  boy,  and  my  name  was  the  last  word  that  passed 
her  lips.  That  very  evening  of  her  death  I  was  lying  wide 
awake  in  bed,  I  am  certain  I  was  never  more  awake,  when 
I  saw  my  mother's  spirit  hovering  over  me.  I  am  neither 
an  ordinarily  superstitious  nor  a  credulous  man ;  I  am  en- 
tirely free  of  all  influences  of  that  kind  and  pride  myself 
on  being  ' '  practical ' '  and  doing  my  best  to  take  a  common- 
sense  view  of  things  in  general;  but  as  regards  the  exper- 
ience just  narrated  it  is  not  a  question  of  superstition  or 
credulity  at  all,  it  is  not  a  mere  belief  or  hallucination; 
it  is  that  I  know  as  a  fact  that  my  mother  appeared  to  me 
just  about  the  time  of  her  death  some  distance  away,  and 
this  appearance  was  so  clear  and  made  such  a  strong  im- 
pression upon  me  that  the  memory  of  it  is  still  most  vivid, 
and  I  can  never  forget  it  as  long  as  I  live.  Many  will,  I 
daresay,  doubt  my  veracity  or  think  I  was  in  some  way 
self-deceived ;  as  to  the  last,  I  can  only  say  I  am  absolutely 
certain  I  was  not  asleep  and  that  it  would  be  most  strange 
that  my  imagination  should  choose  that  particular  time 
to  play  me  such  a  prank ;  as  to  the  question  of  my  veracity, 
I  can  do  no  more  than  make  my  statement  most  solemnly. 
For  about  a  year  afterwards  my  stepfather  and  I  lived 
by  ourselves,  and  as  he  could  not  afford  to  engage  a  house- 
keeper, we  had  to  manage  as  best  we  could  alone.  My  duty 
was  principally  to  tidy  up  the  house  before  going  to 
school  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  One  day 
I  neglected  to  do  so,  depending  upon  being  able  to 
make  amends  when  I  came  home  again  at  eleven  o'clock 
(a.m.).  But  things  have  an  uncomfortable  habit  of  dis- 
appointing our  expectations.  So  it  was  in  this  case,  for 
on  this  particular  day  my  stepfather  happened  to  arrive 
home  before  me,  which  was  very  unusual,  his  regular  time 
being  a  little  after  twelve  o'clock.  He  was  very  angry  at 
my  neglect  and  gave  me  a  terribly  severe  thrashing,  so 
that  I  could  not  sit  still  for  a  few  days ;  that  was  about  the 
only  "proper  doing"  (using  for  convenience  a  slang 
phrase)  I  ever  received  from  him.  In  general  he  was  too 
easy-going,  and  during  the  time  I  lived  alone  with  him  I 
had  a  great  deal  of  freedom,  more  than  was  good  for  me, 

66 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

(for  at  that  age  boys  need  careful  control)  and  consequent- 
ly found  plenty  of  mischief  to  fall  into.  For  instance,  I 
had  a  great  fancy  for  shooting,  but  "chill  penuvry"  sadly 
hampered  me.  Having  no  better  weapons,  I  obtained  an 
old  key,  a  very  large  one,  and  filed  a  little  touch-hole  just 
where  the  bore  of  the  key  ended.  I  fastened  this  impro- 
vised little  barrel  to  a  piece  of  wood,  and)  as  the  contri- 
vance was  primarily  intended  for  mischievious  purposes 
and  precipitate  retreat,  there  was  also  a  piece  of  string 
attached.  When  loaded  I  fired  the  thing  off  with  a  match. 
Sometimes  I  had  great  trouble  to  procure  powder,  as  the 
sale  of  that  article  to  children  was  strictly  prohibited.  But 
a  good  neighbor  for  whom  I  used  to  run  messages  often 
gave  me  a  small  sum  of  money  and  a  written  order  on  a 
ticket  by  means  of  which  I  could  be  supplied  with  powder. 

What  a  joy  it  was  in  the  dusk  of  evening  to  find  some- 
body's door  ajar,  gently  push  it  sufficiently  open,  and 
placing  my  little  one-gun  battery  just  inside,  fire  it  off, 
hearing  very  likely  startled  screams  and  a  commotion 
within.  Of  course  by  the  time  the  wrathful  people  had 
got  to  the  doors  I  was  invisible  in  the  friendly  darkness. 
Such  a  feat  made  one  feel  as  self-satisfied  as  giving  a  con- 
tribution to  some  missionary  box. 

On  one  occasion  I  was  just  in  the  act  of  firing  when 
our  policeman  came  round  the  comer,  but  luckily  for  me 
the  charge  missed  fire,  and  the  guardian  of  the  peace  hav- 
ing his  head  somewhere  in  the  clouds  at  the  time,  I  was 
passed  unseen,  and  the  law  went  on  to  its  supper  and  bed 
in  its  residence  about  thirty  yards  away.  When  he  was 
safely  inside  I  tried  again,  and  "this  time  it  did  not  fail"; 
there  was  such  a  detonation  as  brought  out  the  whole 
neighborhood,  as  it  seemed,  but  "Fortune  favours  the 
brave"— I  was  not  there— "The  devil  takes  care  of  his 
own."  The  string  on  my  apparatus  enabled  me  to  snatch 
it  up  without  delay,  always  keeping  the  string  in  hand,  and 
as  soon  as  the  shot  was  fired  I  was  off  like  a  shot  myself, 
and  never  taking  risk  in  daylight  I  was  seldom  caught. 

My  stepfather  being  now  "to  let"  or  "for  sale"  matri- 
monially, it  goes  without  saying  that  notwithstanding  his 
rather  serious  moral  dilapidation  as  regards  indulgence  in 

67 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

drink,  he  was  very  speedily  of  much  interest  to  some  of  the 
unsettled  portion  of  the  feminine  world;  and  he  was  soon 
doing  his  best  to  meet  trouble  half  way,  by  going  out  every 
evening  for  or  with  a  young  woman  who,  as  you  willl  see, 
befooled  him  neatly.  So  it  came  about  that  I  was  left 
almost  entirely  to  myself;  little  wonder,  then,  that  I 
tried  to  get  all  the  fun  I  could  and  began  to  run  wild. 

I  had  no  toys  worth  speaking  of  to  keep  me  inside  or 
otherwise  harmlessly  amused,  though  I  sometimes  used  to 
make  simple  ones  for  myself,  generally  out  of  cardboard. 
For  instance,  soldiers,  being  always  popular  with  boys, 
I  often  used  to  buy  small  colored  pictures  of  them,  paste 
them  on  a  card,  cut  them  out  neatly,  and  fix  them  up  to 
stand  alone. 

One  of  my  feats  was  to  nearly  burn  our  house  down. 
I  was  fond  of  scientific  experiments— crude  and  useless 
perhaps,  but  still  interesting  to  me.  One  was  to  drop 
molten  lead  into  water  to  observe  the  wonderful  confor- 
mations the  lead  assumes  when  treated.  This  risky  ex- 
periment I  used  to  make  in  the  fireplace,  and  being  well 
aw^are  that  if  my  stepfather  knew  of  it  we  should  both 
be  greatly  pained,  I  took  good  care  to  afterwards  hide 
the  ashes  (rather  than  get  the  ''hiding"  myself).  One 
day  after  some  beautiful  results  with  the  lead,  I  put  the 
ashes  red  hot  into  a  wooden  bucket,  about  an  hour  before 
my  stepfather's  return.  When  he  came  there  was  the 
kitchen  in  a  blaze,  but  fortunately  he  was  able  to  ex- 
tinguish it  with  a  few  buckets  of  water,  and  then,  when  I 
came  home  later,  he  turned  his  attention  to  me  in  another 
fashion,  and  science  was  grieviously  checked. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A   GREAT  FIRE — AN    OLD-TIME    FIRE-BRIGADE 

I  will  tell  here  of  a  big  fire  which  occurred  in  Ottensen 
at  about  this  time— while  beiuig  alone  with  my  stepfather — 
if  only  to  show  how  our  fire-brigade  managed,  or  mis- 
managed, such  affairs  in  those  days. 

You  remember  that,  as  described  in  the  first  chap- 
ter, there  were  old  farm-houses  with  straw-thatched  roofs 
in  our  village  ?  One  night  a  fire  broke  out  in  one  of  these 
not  far  fromi  where  we  were  living.  The  walls  were  built 
of  brick  and  there  were  iron  bars  fixed  across  inside 
the  windows.  What  these  bars  were  for  I  don't  know, 
but  they  helped  greatly  to  bring  about  the  fearful  calam- 
ity which  happened  through  that  fire,  by  closing  what 
might  have  been  ways  of  escape  for  the  people  in  the 
house. 

About  2  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  village  was  startled 
out  of  its  slumbers  by  the  old  watchman's  ceaseless 
rattle  and  loud  cry  of  *'Fire!  fire!"  My  stepfather  and 
I  were  quickly  at  the  place  and  just  in  time  to  see  a  man 
jump  out  through  the  flames  from  a  big  double-door;  he 
was  very  badly  burnt  but  eventually  recovered.  A  mar- 
ried couple  with  five  children  had  also  resided  in  this  house* 
This  man  and  wife  at  first  succeeded  in  getting  out  safely, 
but  somehow  the  ehildren  were  left  behind.  It  was  said 
that  in  their  first  panic-stricken  terror  the  parents  had 
momentarily  forgotten  their  children's  peril;  but  it  seems 
to  me  likely  either  that  the  husband  had  first  carried  out 
his  wife,  or  that  the  children  may  have  been  in  another 
room  and  the  parents  may  have  thought  them  compara- 
tively safe  for  a  time  and  more  easily  rescued  from  out- 
side. However  this  may  be,  they  both  bravely  rushed  back. 
The  father  got  hold  of  two,  one  under  each  of  his  arms, 
but  just  as  he  was  near  the  door,  and  all  but  out,  the  boim- 
ing  straw  roof  slipped  down  on  top  of  him.  and  though 
he  was  dragged  out  alive,  was  so  terribly  burned  that  he 
died   about  tyvo   days  afterwards.     The   two   children   he 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

had  tried  to  save  were  dead  when  taken  out,  and  the  wife 
and  the  other  three  children  were  all  burnt  to  cinders. 

All  this  time  we  were  wondering  what  had  become  of 
our  Fire  Brig^ade,  for  they  had  not  turned  up.  In  fact, 
though  too  late  to  be  of  much  service,  the  Hamburg  Bri- 
gade arrived  before  our  local  one.  At  last,  however,  ours 
came  on  the  scene.  It  transpired  that  they  had  not  been 
able  to  find  the  key  of  the  Spritzen  House  (i.  e.  the  sta- 
tion house)— had  been  hunting  high  and  low  for  it!  In 
the  end  they  had  to  break  the  big  iron  hinges  out  of  the 
brick  wall  before  they  could  get  the  fire  apparatus !  The 
firemen  were  all  local  tradespeople  of  various  callings,  and 
when  a  fire  broke  out  they  put  on  their  white  coats  and 
black  leather  helmets  with  brass  mountings  and  trotted 
oft',  some  for  the  apparatus  and  some  straight  to  the  fire. 
The  first  man  who  brought  a  horse  to  the  Fire  Station 
used  to  be  paid  about  10s — in  English  value. 

On  the  occasion  mentioned  above  no  one  knew  who  had 
the  key,  and  precious  time  had  been  lost  in  running  about 
making  inquiries.  Next  day  it  was  found  in  the  black- 
smith's shop,  where  one  of  the  firemen  had  left  it  after 
the  last  fire  about  six  weeks  previously,  and  had  forgotten 
all  about  it.  A  rather  free-and-easy  brigade,  eh?  It  is 
pretty  plain  they  did  not  trouble  much  about  practice, 
as  brigades  do  now-a-days. 

The  Ottensen  Brigade  was  provided  with  one  of  the 
old-fashioned  portable  pumps,  and  when  the  brigades  did 
arrive  there  was  plenty  for  us  bystanders  to  do,  even 
boys,  as  water  had  to  be  carried  in  leathern  buckets, 
(which  formed  an  important  part  of  the  equipment)  from 
a  well  about  150  yards  away  and  poured  into  the  portable 
tank  or  through  to  feed  the  pumps,  the  last  being  worked  by 
a  number  of  men  at  a  rocking  parallel  lever.  Those  car- 
rying the  buckets  were  running  to  and  fro  in  two  sep- 
arate lines,  just  like  an  ant  track,  one  row  with  full 
buckets  towards  the  fire-pump,  the  other  row  with  empty 
ones  back  to  the  well. 

But  all  efforts  w^ere  of  very  little  use;  next  day  three 
homesteads  lay  in  ruins  and  seven  lives  had  been  lost. 

I  must  say  here  that  the  Hamburg  Brigade  was  an  ex- 

70 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

cellent  one,  with  the  very  best  appliances  then  in  use;  it 
may  be  compared  to  the  London  Brigades  of  those  days. 
In  the  house  where  the  fire  originated,  there  h-ad 
lived,  besides  those  who  had  lost  their  lives,  an  old 
tailor  and  his  wife.  A  day  or  two  later  this  woman  told 
some  of  us  who  were  there  at  the  time  where  her  chest 
of  drawers  with  all  her  silver  plate  upon  it  had  stood.  We 
set  to  work  and  removed  the  whole  of  the  debris,  but  not 
a  single  article  of  the  kind  could  we  discover.  Eventually 
the  detectives  found  out  that  she  had  herself  set  fire  to  the 
place  for  the  sake  of  the  insurance  upon  it.  I  suppose 
she  little  thought  that  her  criminal  act  would  be  the 
cause  of  seven  people  losing  their  lives.  She  was  placed 
upon  trial,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  ten  years'  im- 
prisonment with  hard  labor. 


71 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MATRIM0NIA1,_, — MY    STEPFATHER    VICTIMIZED 

''Be  kind  to  the  'first—,' 

The  'second'  is  worst; 

You'll  wish  you  were  single  again!" 

If  I  mistake  not,  may  fair  readers  will  by  this  time  be 
getting  impatient  for  something  relating  to  love,  courtship, 
and  marriage.  My  own  experiences  in  these  matters  are 
scarcely  due  yet— when  I  was  only  eleven  years  old.  You 
will  find  a  fair  assortment  of  such  things  presently. 

But  I  can  at  least  treat  you  to  a  little  gossip  here  about 
my  stepfather's  second  marriage  venture  and  sundry  in- 
cidental entanglements  therewith  which  that  mischievous 
little  deity  Don  Gupid,  achieved. 

I  have  already  hinted  a  few  pages  back  that  my  step- 
father fell  an  easy  prey  to  trouble  of  this  nature.  The 
fact  is,  there  were  then,  as  there  are  now  and  always  will 
be,  the  so-called  "match-makers."  'These  amiable  med- 
dlers are  always  and  everywhere  lying  in  wait  for  the 
unsuspicious,  guileless,  eligible  bachelor  and  the  widower 
to  betray  him  to  some  female  brigand  with  her  "hair  up" 
and  other  signs  of  being  on  serious  business  intent.  They, 
the  matchmakers,  are  not  unlike  the  "confidence  hawks" 
of  a  city  prowling,  for  some  strayed  country  bumpkin. 
Both  she  and  he  (the  matchmaker  and  the  "hawk")  are 
such  nice  jovial  personages;  they  so  skillfully  bring  their 
quarry  and  their  accomplice  into  acquaintanceship;  and 
— does  not  the  bumpkin  in  both  cases  experience  much  the 
same  fate,— taken  in,  "taken  down,"  and  entirely  "clean- 
ed out"  so  far  as  property  is  concerned? 

Well,  my  poor  mother  was  hardly  in  her  grave,  when 
one  of  these  matchmaking  hawks,  these  sweet-faced  vam- 
pires of  Hymen — she  was  the  wife  of  one  of  my  stepfath- 
er's fellow  workmen — must  come  swooping  down  on  the 
poor  lonely  man,  cooing,  like  one  of  Venus 's  own  white 
doves,  words  of  soft  sympathy  and  love-music  for  the  fu- 
ture; treated  him  to  sly  galvanic  shocks   from  her  own 

72 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

brig-ht  eyes,  badgered  him  right  and  left  with  her  tongue, 
tantalized  him  with  word  portraits  of  a  young  goddess  of 
womanly  perfections  wj;iom  she  knew  and  who  she  s 
and  insisted  would  be  ''just  the  wife"  for  him;  that  at 
last  she  of  course  had  her  way  and  the  victim  was  handed 
over  to  his  future  despot  by  formal  introduction,  and  was 
in  less  than  no  time  over  head  and  oars  in  love,  poor  fool. 
I  suppose  the  usual  preliminaries  to  an  engagement  must 
have  been  taken  with  a  rush,  for  it  was  not  long  before 
I  was  formally  presented  to  my  future  stepmother  and 
she  to  me.  I  must  admit  she  seemed  an  exceedingly  nice 
young  lady,  well-shaped,  elegantly  dressed,  soft-featured 
with  sweet  voice  and  manner — altogether  a  most  lady-like 
harmless-looking  piece  of  young  womanhood  of  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age— very  different  from  my  poor 
mother,  who  was  a  little  older  than  her  second  husband. 
He  may  be  excused  for  falling  in  love  with  such  a  charm- 
er; but  like  many  another  unfortunate  he  "fell  in"  badly 
in  other  senses,  and  had  to  pay  pretty  dearly  for  his  folly 
as  you  will  find. 

Amongst  her  fascinations  was  the  nice  little  sum  of 
£150,  a  sum  looking  bigger  in  Germany  and  in  those  days 
than  with  us.  This  neat  little  capital  was  supposed  to  be 
savings  from  her  wages  as  parlormaid  in  high-class  hotels : 
but  in  the  light  of  subsequent  revelations  and  of  any  own 
and  your  acquaintance  with  the  ways  of  the  world,  T 
think  some  skepticism  as  to  these  supposed  ''savings" 
not  impardonable.  Moreover,  there  were  other  mixed  facts 
and  suppositions  connected  with  this  beautiful  creature 
which  we  must  delicately  present  and  disentangle.  She 
lived  in  service  and  besides  "saving"  such  a  nice  sum,  was 
in  her  supposed  kindness  and  goodness  of  heart  support- 
ing two  healthy  boys  who  were  alleged  to  be  her  dead  sis- 
ter's children.  Don't  jump  at  hasty  conclusions  either 
way;  we  shall  get  to  the  facts  in  due  course. 

Well,  this  lady  graciously  condescended  to  stoop  from 
her  former  lofty  estate  in  houses  of  the  great— to  act  as 
housekeeper  for  my  stepfather  in  his  humble  abode.  Pray 
don't  suspect  me  of  base  insinuations— nothing  of  the  kind 
meant  here;  her  motives  and  conduct  may  both  have  been 

73 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

in  this  particular  quite  angelic.  But  whatever  they  were, 
one  of  those  sudden  friendships  to  which  ladies  are  prone 
sprang  up  between  her  and  a  couple  who  lived  on  the  first 
floor  of  our  house.  The  talkative-half  of  the  said  couple 
very  soon  in  her  warmth  of  friendship  for  her  new  friend 
exposed  my  stepfather's  frailties  and  demerits  and  be- 
sought her  not  to  throw  away  her  valuable  self  upon  such 


My  Stepfather  and  Stepmother 

a  common-place  good-for-nothing,  and  finally  introduced 
her,  with  match-making  intent,  to  a  highly  eligible  bache- 
lor friend  of  our  would-be  match-maker  of  the  first  floor. 
This  new  "eligible"  was,  as  compared  to  my  stepfather, 
quite  an  aristocrat  of  the  plane  and  the  chisel;  for  where- 
as my  stepfather  only  made  rough  gin  boxes  and  the  like, 

74 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

the  other,  his  new  rival,  was  a  piano-maker,  and  therefore 
in  a  much  higher  social  position,  and  earning  twice  as  much 
wages.  What  lady  could  ignore  such  considerations? 
Would  you  not  yourself,  dear  lady  reader,  discard  a  poor 
lieutenant  for  a  colonel,  a  curate  for  a  bishop,  a  baronet 
for  an  earl  or  a  duke? 

Well,  whatever  you  would  do,  my  stepfather's  fiancee 
yielded  to  her  friend's  persuasions  so  far  as  to  transfer 
her  lodgings  from  our  apartments  to  those  of  the  married 
couple  and  to  modestly  encourage  her  new  suitor  by  the 
usual  devices.  But  this  piano-maker  seems  to  have  picked 
up  some  worldly  wisdom,  perhaps  as  a  fashionable  man- 
about-town;  for,  as  soon  as  he  heard  about  "sister's  chil- 
dren" he  made  searching  inquiries  and  discovered  that 
they  were  much  more  nearly  related  to  his  would-be  bride 
—that,  in  fact,  she  had  had  three  unsanctioned  children, 
the  two  under  her  care  and  one  dead.  At  his  next  inter- 
view with  her  he  expressed  his  opinion  and  broke  off  the 
courtship  in  words  which  were  not  in  the  remotest  degree 
polite,  delicate,  nor  considerate.  In  a  furious  passion  she 
cast  at  his  feet  a  diamond  ririg  he  had  given  her;  and  so 
that  little  by-play  of  Cupid's  ended. 

But  if  not  a  duly  qualified  widow,  the  practical  experi- 
ence she  had  gained  as  an  amateur  wife  made  her  quite 
as  expert  in  securing  some  sort  of  a  husband  as  if  she 
had  held  the  usual  professional  diploma  in  that  line  of 
business.  How  she  managed  it  I  can't  pretend  to  say, 
but  in  a  very  little  while  she  had  her  jilted  lover,  my  step- 
father, fairly  hooked  again,  fool  that  he  was  (and  after- 
wards knew),  and  she  managed  so  adroitly  that  one  Sun- 
day very  soon  afterwards  she  was  back  as  Lady  President 
(or  something  of  the  sort)  in  our  apartments. 

But  she  lost  no  time  in  getting  that  merely  verbal  con- 
tract replaced  by  one  under  legal  seal.  Not  having  been 
in  her  confidence  I  cannot  give  you  the  whole  of  the  ne- 
gotiations, but  I  can  supply  you  with  material  facts  both 
plain  enough  and  sufficient  enough  for  you  to  form  a 
pretty  fair  idea  as  to  her  modus  operandi. 

My  stepfather  and  I  had  been  accustomed  to  sleep  to- 
gether in  a  double  bed  in  the  attic,  a  room  on  the  highest 

75 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

floor  just  under  the  roof.  At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening 
of  the  Sunday  when  Miss  Housekeeper  returned  to  us, 
my  stepfather  said  to  me,  "You  had  better  go  to  bed,  I 
will  soon  come  too."  Very  possibly  he  fully  meant  to  do 
so,  and  it  was  simply  a  case  of  "man  proposes,  but  woman 
disposes"—  in  furtherance  of  her  matrimonial  designs 
(that  contract  under  legal  seal  which  I  referred  to). 

So  I  felt  my  way  down  a  long,  dark  passaige,  up  a 
long  dark  staircase,  and  into  the  cheerless  dark  attic— 
not  being  allowed  a  candle  for  fear  of  fire — found  my 
way  between  the  featherbeds,  such  a^  are  generally  used 
in  Germany,  and  was  soon  fast  asleep.  In  the  cold  mid- 
dle of  the  night  I  awoke,  a  very  rare  occurrence,  and  felt 
for  my  stepfather;  he  was  not  there.  Where  he  was  may 
be  easily  imagined. 

It  is  all  past  now;  but  if  there  is  any  child  of  eleven 
years  of  age  who  is  at  all  dear  to  you,  just  picture  him 
or  her  in  a  small,  cold,  dark  room,  out  of  sight  and  hearing 
and  out  of  mind  of  everybody— feeling  a  sense  of  utter 
desertion,  weeping  hopelessly,  sobbing  at  last  into  the  sleep 
of  exhaustion— from  which  he  is  to  awake  to  his  future 
solitary  life's  journey,  toils,  and  troubles. 

I  do  not  seek  that  you  should  compassionate  me;  it 
is  unfortunate  childhood  in  general  that  I  would  touch 
your  noblest  emotions  for,  and  for  that  adult  humanity 
which  is  but  the  same  childhood  grown  up  and  still  heart- 
sore  with  that  same  cold  loneliness,  nothing  but  a  callous 
world— engrossed  with  their  own  pleasures;  it  is  for 
generous  warm-heartedness  to  our  fellowmen  and  women 
that  I  plead— that  Divine  sunshine  which  is  the  life  of 
all  things. 

My  stepfather  never  again  slept  in  my  bed;  but  on  the 
following  Sunday  there  was  a  wedding  ceremony  at  our 
house,  between  my  stepfather  and  our  former  housekeeper ; 
there  was  a  wedding  feast  and  the  usual  jollifications. 
Piecing  together  the  salient  facts  given,  I  think  my  Step- 
Mother  may  be  credited  with  skilful  diplomacy  in  conduct- 
ing negotiations,  especially  on  the  Sunday  preceding  the  offi- 
cial celebration — a  judicious  combination  of  sweetheart  and 
level-headed  business  ability. 

76 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Night  after  night  I  had  to  pass  in  that  lonely  bed,  until 
I  became  used  to  it.  Sometimes,  however,  I  had  diver- 
sions—in their  way  quite  exciting.  The  attic  was  one  of 
several  over  a  terrace  of  homes,  the  dividing  walls  reach- 
ed no  higher  than  the  leaves  of  the  roof.  The  attics  them- 
selves were  only  partitioned  with  canvas,  in  places  worn 
into  gaping  holes.  Now,  cats  in  Germany  are  not  a  whit 
more  moral  or  wellbred  in  their  habits  and  conduct  than 
cats  elsewhere;  their  nightly  political  debates  (or  what- 
ever their  noisy  meetings  may  be)  seem  to  involve  pre- 
cisely the  same  points  of  argument,  and  even  the  same 
violent  language;  and  they  show  the  same  partiality  for 
scampering  on  roofs. 

Well,  imagine  these  Socialistic  delegates  from  every 
house  within  their  electorate  convening  a  meeting  at  1:10 
a.  m.  in  my  little  attic,  and  arriving  with  a  rush  by  all  sorts 
of  routes,  mostly  the  holes  in  the  (ianvass  walls;  imagine 
a  hufricane  of  hideous  howls  and  spittings  breaking  sud- 
denly upon  some  sweet  dream  of  peaceful  mischief  and  pro- 
ducing on  me  the  horrifying  impression  that  ghostly  po- 
licemen had  made  a  sudden  descent  with  red  hot  canes  upon 
a  batch  of  stark-naked  boys,  myself,  of  course,  being  one; 
imagine  the  startled  awakening  in  cold  darkness  with  those 
fiendish  yells  a  reality,  and  fierce  greenish  eyes  staring  at 
me  from  all  around ;  imagine  a  stack  of  firewood  piled  near 
my  bed  and  an  angry  little  boy  wildly  bombarding  with 
some  of  the  chunks  those  hateful  domestic  demons,  and  the 
clatter  of  wood  and  other  articles,  and  the  swift  scurry  of 
scared  cats;  and  imagine  some  such  programme  "Oft  in 
the  stilly  night. ' '     So  much  for  my  hours  of  darkness. 

Nor,  after  my  stepfather's  second  marriage,  were  my 
days  much  if  any  more  tolerable ;  my  life  became  a  perfect 
misery.  Children  blessed  with  fond  parents  can  form  no 
idea  of  my  experiences  at  this  time ;  even  children  in  a  char- 
ity school,  however  severe  the  discipline,  are  treated  in- 
comparably better  than  I  was. 

You  would  never  think  the  sleek  mild  cat,  basking  and 
purring  in  the  sunshine,  could  ever  be  the  fierce  noisy  crea- 
ture she  sometimes  is.  Neither  do  we  dream  that  the  gen- 
tle maiden  with  cheeks  like  soft  rose  petals,  lips  like  ripe 

77 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

raspberries,  eyes  like  bits  of  summer  sky,  a  figure  of  sweet 
softness,  and  hair  a  love-veil,  could  ever  become  a  fierce 
termagant,  a  flat-iron  and  saucepan-throwing  Amazon,  an 
incarnate  cruelty  of  some  sort  or  other;  yet  does  it  not 
often  so  come  to  pass? 

That  gentle,  pleasant,  altogether  delightful  young  woman 
my  stepfather  had  courted  was  within  a  very  few  weeks 
everything  that  was  opposite  in  nature,  which  fact  must 
however,  unfold  gradually. 

Her  ante-conn u vial  little  family  very  soon  arrived  in 
instalments,  first  a  little  fellow  of  about  fiv*;,  and  not  long 
afterwards  one  a  year  or  two  younger.  Both  these  par- 
cels were  carefully  and  showily  wrapped  up,  but  the  second 
was  speedily  reconsigned. 

I  don't  know  exactly  when  my  stepfather  discovered  the 
real  facts  about  these  children— that  they  were  to  be  not 
merely  nephews-in-law,  but  actual  new  stepsons.  I  believe 
that  for  a  considerable  time  he  was  in  blissful  ignorance— 
and  probably  the  news  was  not  gently,  but  rather  roughly, 
broken  to  him  as  a  consequence  of  his  rival,  the  piano- 
maker's  investigations. 


78 


CHAPTER  XIT. 

LIFE    WITH    A    STEPMOTHER. 

Now  for  me  began  some  years  of  real  starvation  and 
hardship.  My  stepfather  earned  only  about  18s  a  week, 
and  this  certainly  could  not  be  expected  (even  remember- 
ing its  old  country  value)  to  permit  of  other  than  econom- 
ical housekeeping;  but  I  think  my  stepmother  carried  econ- 
omy beyond  justifiable  bounds. 

She  often  used  to  say,  with  all  the  dogmatic  sententious- 
ness  of  a  female  Solomon,  and  all  the  unconscious  self-con- 
tradiction of  womankind — and  of  a  typical  Irishman — , 
* '  There  is  never  a  gourmandizer  horn,  but  he  is  made  one ' ' 
(meaning  by  the  last  clause,  of  course,  that  over-indulgent 
treatment  after  being  born  makes  the  gourmandizer)  and 
she  treated  us  unflaggingly  on  the  principle  she  intended  to 
convey;  for  you,  reader,  will  note  that  her  aphorism  re- 
quires some  little  unravelling,  being  open  to  more  than  one 
interpretation. 

Meat,  vegetables,  puddings,  everything  eatable,  even 
bread  itself,  seemed  to  be  provided  more  to  look  at  and 
smell— and  even  these  only  from  a  distance— rather  than 
to  gratify  the  hungry  mouth  and  stomach.  At  six  o'clock 
in  the  morning  her  restless  energy  would  scare  us  out  of 
bed.  A  little  later  I  and  her  own  boy  would  each  be  hand- 
ed two  slices  of  brown  bread  with  butter  or  drippings  and 
a  cup  of  coffee.  Now  I  put  it  to  you,  was  it  quite  fair  play 
to  restrict  me  with  my  eleven  years'  capacity  to  the  same 
allowance  as  little  Ernest  of  only  five  years  ditto?  She 
never  made  the  slightest— allowance  for  the  difference  in 
size  and  indicated  horse-power  (using  an  engineering 
term).  Nor  was  what  I  have  so  far  stated  the  worst  of  it, 
for  we  received  strict  injunctions  not  to  eat  all  those  two 
slices  for  breakfast,  but  to  take  half  of  it  with  us  to  school ! 
Why,  I  could  have  eaten  three  times  those  two  slices  first 
thing  in  the  morning,  so  you  may  be  sure  I  never  had  any 
left  to  take  to  school,  and  had  to  simply  starve  till  mid-day. 
Sometimes  the  growing  emptiness  was  so  acute  that  I  often 

79 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

could  hardly  resist  the  temptation  to  steal  other  children's 
lunches.  We  had  to  sweep  and  clean  out  the  house  every 
morning  before  going  to  school  at  eight  o  'clock,  so  that  even 
so  early  as  that  I  was  often  as  hungry  as  a  wolf;  no  won- 
der, then,  that  the  sight  of  other  boys  with  tempting  sand- 
wiches or  cake  in  reserve  almost  overcame  me.  But  I  am 
thankful  to  be  able  to  honestly  say  that  not  once  did  I 
yield  to  the  temptation. 

After  three  hours  of  school  work  we  at  eleven  o'clock 
returned  home — but  not  yet  did  dinner  or  relief  come.  An 
hour  and  a  half  we  had  to  wait  for  my  stepfather,  and  then 
at  last  we  were  allowed  to  fill  up  properly  on  pea  soup  with 
dumplings  or  anything  else  substantial  (thanks  to  our  good 
hearted  stepfather)  so  that  the  afternoon  was  much  more 
sufferable  than  the  morning;  but  I  sadly  missed  my  own 
kind  mother,  and  even  the  free-and-easy  liberty  of  my  step- 
father's widowerhood.  As  further  showing  what  sort  of  a 
woman  my  stepmother  was,  I  may  add  these  facts. 

My  maternal  grandfather  was  a  musician,  and  had  left 
his  violin  (a  fine  instrument,  I  understood)  in  charge  of  my 
mother  for  me  when  old  enough  for  it.  This  my  unprin- 
cipled stepmother  sold,  and  kept  the  money.  She  also  did 
the  same  with  some  so-called  gold  buttons  which  had  belong- 
ed to  my  father,  who  at  one  time  had  been  in  service  with 
a  family  of  high  position.  Quite  apart  from  the  intrinsic 
value  of  these  things  I  set  great  store  by  them  for  my  dear 
mother's  sake  and  keenly  felt  deprived  of  them. 

My  new  mother  gave  me  very  little  time  for  games  or 
mischief;  she  kept  me  pretty  well  always  at  work  of  some 
sort.  For  instance,  Wednesday  was  washing  day,  Satur- 
day was  scrubbing  day,  and  on  both  I  had  to  stay  home 
from  school  and  help  in  many  ways.  Then,  in  due  course 
and  with  business-like  punctuality,  two  seemingly  import- 
ant little  strangers  simultaneously  arrived  in  our  house- 
twins— a  kind  of  counter-balance,  I  suppose,  to  their  two 
half  brothers  from  pre-matrimonial  days.  Step-father  fac- 
ed the  situation  as  becomes  a  man,  heroically,  and  with  the 
usual  clumsy  grace  simulating  conventional  conjugal  joy 
and  gratitude— though  I  expect  he  very  ruefully  thought 
of  his  scanty  incoine  and  prospects  of  self-denial  for  the 

80 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

future.  As  for  me,  I  have  a  hazy  impression  that  I  re- 
flectively and  rather  viciously  kicked  a  few  inoffensive 
things— they  suffered  vicariously. 

Soon  thereafter,  as  I  had  anticipated  from  knowledge 
of  other  families,  I  seemed  seldom  without  one  or  the  other 
of  them  in  my  arms,  an  awkward  bundle  of  heavy  limpness 
and  wrappings — for  I  was  installed  nurse-in-chief.  And 
a  champion  pair  of  criers  they  were.  Even  at  night  I  had 
to  take  my  watch  on  deck,  as  it  were,  tending  their  bottle 
rations,  rocking  the  cradle,  picking  up  and  soothing  the 
little  wretches,  and  so  on  till  two  or  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  Many  times  I  fell  asleep  on  the  sofa,  only  to  be 
soon  awakened  by  a  well  aimed  fusillade  of  slippers  from 
my  step-parents,  who  had  been  roused  by  the  loud  scream- 
ing of  those  horrible  twins.  But  in  about  six  or  seven 
months  one  of  them  sickened,  and,  from  my  point  of  view, 
fortunately  went  elsewhere.  I  will  give  him  the  credit  of 
perhaps  having  some  vague  idea  that  this  troublesome 
world  did  not  quite  suit  him;  it  is  best,  you  know,  to  be 
charitable  in  such  cases.  Whatever  by  stepmother  felt, 
I  feel  sure  my  stepfather  must  have  in  some  degree  shared 
my  relief. 

Certain  neighbors,  with  whom  I  suppose  my  stepmother 
was  not  on  the  best  of  terms,  whispered  unkind  things 
about,  and  looked  blackly  askance  at  her  over  their  shoul- 
ders ;  someone  had  set  a  rumor  going  that  she  had  poisoned 
the  child.  This  may  have  been  nothing  but  spiteful  slan- 
der, for  the  child  was  buried  under  due  medical  certifi- 
cate ;  but  the  fact  of  the  rumor  gaining  some  currency  in- 
dicates an  uncomplimentary  opinion  of  my  stepmother's 
character. 

Several  of  these  neighbors  had  taken  compassion  on  me, 
knowing  I  was  not  given  sufficient  food,  and  frequently  as 
I  passed  their  doors  a  nice  sandwich  or  something  else 
which  had  been  put  by  specially  for  me  would  be  placed 
in  my  hand.     My  word,  did  I  not  enjoy  any  such  treat! 

After  a  time  my  stepmother  took  lodgers  in  the  house, 
so  supplementing  her  husband 's  wages,  and  from  that  time 
our  affairs  improved  and  on  the  whole  went  fairly  well. 

81 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Quite  possibly  somebody  or  other  gave  her  a  piece  of  his 
or  her  mind  on  the  subject  of  stinginess. 

Speaking  of  lodgers,  I  may  as  well  conclude  this  chapter 
with  my  private  opinion  on  that  subject,  an  opinion  formed 
from  many  years '  close  knowledge  of  the  world. 

I  by  no  means  wish  to  condemn  all  lodgers  nor  to  cast 
a  slur  upon  those  who  board  them;  I  have  known  some  at 
least  of  both  classes  whom  I  believe  to  have  been  unim- 
peachable ;  but  more  than  once  or  twice  in  my  own  personal 
history  I  have  experienced  very  grievous  results  from  the 
presence  of  lodgers  in  a  family,  and  have  observed  many 
cases  of  trouble  in  other  families  from  this  same  cause. 
Instances  will  be  found  in  this  book  of  happy  homes  ruin- 
ed. So  my  advice  to  all  is,  don't  take  lodgers  if  you  can 
possibly  avoid  doing  so — unless  you  have  no  damageable 
property  about. 


82 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A    GOLDEN    OPPORTUNITY    LOST. 

In  the  lives  of  most  of  us  there  has  occurred  some  event 
or  opportunity  that  stands  out  prominently  as  the  seem- 
ing turning  point  of  our  life.  Had  we  used  that  opportun- 
ity in  some  other  way  than  as  we  did  our  whole  subsequent 
history  would  to  all  appearances  have  been  totally  differ- 
ent. In  most  such  cases  our  way  would  have  been  broader, 
smoother,  far  more  pleastnt  in  every  way  (so  far  as  we 
can  judge)  and  would  have  brought  us  to  a  position  of  ease 
and  all  we  could  desire. 

"There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 
Which  taken  at  the  flood  leads  on  to  fortune ; 
Neglected,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries." 

—Shakespeare. 

So,  to  a  great  extent,  it  seems  to  have  been  with  me.  Just 
after  that,  for  me,  disastrous  second  marriage  of  my  step- 
father my  opportunity  offered,  and  strange  to  say,  that 
opportunity  was  unconsciously  provided  by  my  stepmother 
herself;  and  just  as  unconsciously  I  myself  threw  my 
chance  away;  but  then  a  boy  of  eleven  years  is  not  to  be 
expected  to  have  sense  enough  to  know  what  is  best  for  him. 

I  daresay  my  step-parents  both  often  found  that  "two's 
company,  three's  none"  both  at  home  and  abroad — I  was 
an  encumbrance  in  various  ways.  Moreover,  my  step- 
mother no  doubt  wished  to  entirely  clear  the  way  for  her 
own  children  ,and  with  this  real  object  artfully  used  fem- 
inine wiles  to  induce  him  to  wish  me  away  for  his  own 
convenience.     Now  for  a  digression: 

I  had  a  grand-aunt  who  was  very  wealthy  and  had  no 
children.  She  had  been  twice  married,  the  second  time, 
at  sixty-three  years  of  age,  to  one  of  her  own  workmen— 
who  was  only  twenty-eight  years  of  age.  It  was  plainly 
not  a  love  match  on  his  part— (and  I  may  state  here  that 


k 


83 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

she  was  one  of  the  plainest  women  I  ever  saw)— on  his 
side  it  was  evidently  a  love-money  affair.  But  I  saw  a 
good  deal  of  them  and  I  must  say  he  made  a  good  husband 
and  that  they  lived  happily  together.  For  one  thing  he 
was  a  good  business  man  and  between  them  they  accumu- 
lated great  wealth.  Naturally  they  had  no  children,  and 
she  had  made  a  will  leaving*  him  everything  should  he  sur- 
vive her.  Doubtless  both  expected  this  would  be  so;  but 
Providence  often  upsets  the  calculations  of  mankind.  In 
this  instance,  my  grand-aunt  actually  outlived  her  young 
husband  by  three  years,  herself  attaining  to  the  age  of 
ninety-three. 

With  this  couple  I  had  often  spent  my  school  holidays, 
and  both  seemed  to  regard  me  with  no  little  affection,  al- 
though even  there  I  could  not  shake  off  my  mischievous 
tendencies  and  much  disturbed  the  even  tenor  of  their 
placid  lives  by  climbing  into,  plundering,  and  tumbling 
out  of  their  apple  and  cherry  trees,  taking  impertinent  lib- 
erties with  the  sedate  cat,  damaging  my  uncle's  pipes, 
and  miscellaneous  other  pranks.  But  they  readily  over- 
looked all  this  and  I  was  always  lovingly  welcomed,  kind 
souls. 

Here,  my  stepmother  suggested  to  my  father,  was  an 
excellent  chance  to  dispose  of  my  inconvenient  self  to  the 
great  advantage  in  every  respect  to  all  concerned.  So  one 
day  my  stepfather  sent  me  off  bearing  a  letter  asking  aunt 
and  uncle  to  adopt  me.  After  a  walk  of  about  siy  miles  I 
reached  my  destination,  presented  my  letter,  and  uncle 
read  it  aloud.  Then  they  asked  me  whether  I  would  like 
to  stay  with  them.  Now,  if  I  had  only  said  that  very  little 
word  ''Yes,"  I  should  have  afterwards  become  the  pro- 
prietor of  a  big  tannery;  but  I  was  still  fond  of  my  step- 
father and  had  not  found  out  then  what  my  stepmother  was 
really  like;  perhaps,  also,  there  was  a  natural  clinging  to 
my  old  home  itself.  At  all  events,  in  my  childish  lack  of 
worldly  wisdom,  I  replied  that  I  would  rather  stay  with 
my  father.  Very  likely  they  thought  the  matter  could  eas- 
ily stand  over  for  a  time.  I  remained  till  evening  and  on 
leaving  them  uncle  gave  me  a  shilling  and  aunt  gave  me 
my  bus  fare  home ;  with  such  unaccustomed  riches  in  hand 

84 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

I  treated  myself  on  the  road  to  saveloys  and  cream  tarts, 
and  the  unspent  change  was  confiscated  by  my  resentful 
stepmother.  This  was  the  inglorious  end  of  my  best  op- 
portunity in  life.  Oh,  fool  that  I  was,  that  I  chose  the 
wrong  path— the  road  home,  with  its  saveloys  and  cream 
tarts!  I  am  sure  my  aunt  would  have  taken  me  had  I 
only  desired. 


85 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SOCIALISTIC,   DOMESTIC,   AND   OTHERWISE. 

Yes,  I  took  the  common  bus  homeward  to  many  years  of 
hardships,  years  of  much  misery,  of  struggling  toil,  of  cheap 
and  fleeting  joys  of  which  saveloys  and  the  cream  tarts  I 
enjoyed  on  the  first  stage  of  this  life  journey  were  most 
propheically  figurative;  every  step  of  that  return  hom,e 
brought  me  nearer  to  follies  and  heavy  griefs— to  my  pie- 
bald future,  a  future  of  mingled  wretchedness  and  suc- 
cesses. But  all  the  same  I  at  the  time  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  aforesaid  wayside  indulgences,  as  I  have,  I  admit,  many 
such  like  things  since. 

But  yet  a  little  more  about  my  boyhood's  home. 

Those  lodgers  were  a  disturbing  element  in  our  domes- 
tic camp,  one  especially, — as  he  has  been  in  many  a  larger 
camp  since.  Did  not  my  stepmother's  business  obligations 
as  house-mistress  and  hostess  compel  her  to  divide  her  care- 
ful and  cheerful  attentions  between  her  husband  and  her 
"paying  guests?"  Did  not  social  amenities  require  some- 
thing in  the  way  of  bright,  playful  badinage  ? .  Did  not 
conventional  gallantry,  to  say  nothing  of  self-interest,  de- 
mand from  the  gentlemen  a  brisk  competitive  discharge  of 
compliments  (none  the  worse  if  well  pointed  and  barbed 
with  rather  coarse  suggestiveness)— compliments  drawing 
in  return  fascinating  smiles,  tongue  sallies,  and  not  least 
extra  helpings  of  good  things?  Did  not  the  lady's  varied 
professional  experience  in  a  fashionable  hotel  before  mar- 
riage come  to  her  aid  and  make  her  feel  once  more  in 
something  like  her  native  element?  And  then,  when  at 
times  womianly  modesty  ought  to  show  offense  at  something 
too  daring  (but  7iot  too  much  offense)  coquettish  ''tricks 
of  the  trade ' '  were  brought  into  play  to  satisfy  the  proprie- 
ties and  provoke  further  transgression?;  and  if  a  mad 
romp  resulted,  what  could  a  poor  weak  woman  do  but  try 
(not  too  hard)  to  run  away,  and  scream  (not  too  loud), 
and  when  caught  cover  her  face  {not  too  tightly)  to  pro- 

86 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

tect  that  vulnerable  area;  and  when  kissed  {not  before, 
mind  you,  to  slap  {7iot  too  cruelly)  and  struggle,  oh,  so 
desperately,  until  helplessly  pinioned  in  the  strong  arms  of 
the  horrid  naughty  man? 

And  if  ' '  hubby ' '  was  sometimes  a  little  restive,  was  it  not 
easy  to  overwhelm  him  with  plausible  pleas  and 
wifely  arts? 

Then  one  of  these  lodgers  was  a  marvellously  attractive 
personality— young,  gay,  witty,  and  with  the  exhaustless 
fluency  of  a  wound-up,  full-powered  gramophone.  He 
was  a  Socialist  who  since  that  time  has  obtained  world- 
wide fame  and  whose  published  works  form  one  of  the  chief 
gospels  of  that  assertive  cult,  if  indeed  those  works  may 
not  be  regarded  as  their  whole  New  Testament,  so  great 
an  authority  with  them  have  his  books  and  name  become. 
At  the  time  I  speak  of  he  was  working  at  his  trade  as  an 
engineer,  for  about  a  pound  a  week,  lodging  with  us,  play- 
ing Whist,  ' '  Sixty-Six ' '  and  other  card-games  with  my  step- 
father and  his  fellow  lodgers — I  looking  on  and  deeply  im- 
pressed with  his  wonderful  eloquence  as  he  ''trumped** 
kings  and  queens  and  knaves  of  courts  and  society  with 
mere  humble  ''workers"  from  the  socialistic  trump  suit, 
scoring  points  both  with  cardboard  and  with  seemingly  un- 
answerable logic. 

"Spades  are  trumps,"  someone  would  declare  after  a 
deal.  "So  they  ought  to  be,"  this  fiery  enthusiast  would 
perhaps  reply,  and  at  once  rattle  off  at  express  speed  into 
a  one-sided  debate,  emphasized  by  points  in  the  game  that 
happened  to  strike  his  lively  fancy,  viciously  covering  the 
high  and  mighty  with  ignominy  at  every  opportunity- 
thumping,  storming,  scorching  with  sarcasm. 

To  this  young  future  celebrity  my  stepmother  showed 
special  partiality.  While  my  father  and  his  friends  were 
engrossed  with  their  play  and  politics  my  stepmother  would 
slip  out  on  the  plea  of  having  "shopping"  to  do  especially 
at  the  grocers.  Nearly  every  evening  there  seemed  to  be 
something  in  that  line  needed.  The  article  might  be  trifl- 
ing, the  grocery  was  not  far,  but  it  seldom  took  less  than 
an  hour  and  often  at  least  two  to  procure  it!  If  step- 
father remarked  on  her  long  absence  she  always  had  an  ex- 


!     lai 


87 


•  THE   EMIGRANT. 

cuse  ready,  one  of  the  commonest  being  that  there  were  so 
many  people  in  the  shop  that  she  could  not  get  served.  But 
I  soon  learned  outside  that  most  of  her  "shopping"  at  this 
grocer's  was  carried  on  in  the  comfortable  seclusion  of  his 
parlor;  and  before  long  she  was  the  talk  of  the  whole 
township.  Why  people  should  talk  I  don't  know— unless 
jealousy  was  the  underlying  reason — women  envying  her, 
men  envying  himl  Pardon  me,  I  cannot  help  being  a 
cynic. 

As  is  usual  in  such  cases,  the  party  chiefly  concerned;  the 
husband,  was  the  only  person  blind  to  the  facts  and  deaf 
to  reports.  However,  even  he  knew  at  last,  for  the  upshot 
was  that  a  few  years  later  she  left  him  entirely  and  lived 
with  the  (grocer  altogether.  How  they  got  on  I  don 't  know 
as  I  had  left  home  by  that  time;  but  when  I  last  saw  my 
step-father  (just  before  coming  to  Australia)  he  was  quite 
broken  down  in  health  and  spirit  and  living  in  a  small  room 
on  a  large  estate  belonging  to  the  employer  for  whom  he 
had  worked  all  these  years.  ''My  word,"  he  said  to  me, 
' '  I  have  been  punished  for  my  folly. ' ' 


88 


CHAPTER  XV. 


LAUNCHED  AND  RIGGED. 


After  I  was  fourteen  years  of  age— though  still  (as  al- 
ways) fond  of  learning— so  sick  at  heart  was  I  of  the  place 
which  should  have  possessed  the  attractions  of  home,  and 
so  eager  to  escape  from  the  clutches  of  my  stepmother, 
that  I  longed  for  the  time  to  come  to  leave  school  and  go 
out  into  the  world  to  work  at  some  trade. 

So  intense  was  this  longing,  that  I  marked  down  in  my 
Bible  a  sort  of  table  of  all  the  Saturdays  of  the  last  year 
of  my  school  time,  and  as  each  slowly  passed  I  crossed  it 
out  from  the  list  and  thanked  God  there  was  one  less.  Of 
course  the  plan  was  unwise,  and  the  year  seemed  never 
coming  to  an  end;  but,  as  everything  does,  so  at  last  did 
that  weary  period,  and  the  time  arrived  for  my  final  ex- 
amination and  formal  confirmation  at  Church. 

I  must  explain  that  for  about  six  weeks  preceding  con- 
firmation we  boys  had  to  attend  a  sort  of  Bible-class  at  our 
minister 's  residence,  where  the  holes  and  the  flaws  in  our  r&. 
ligious  training  were  carefully  puttied  up,  and  we  were 
top-planed  and  sand-papered  and  polished— some  had 
to  be  merely  painted  and  varnished,  so  to  speak— ready  for 
the  social  market.  We  were  finally  put  through  an  ex- 
amination, though  I  would  not  like  to  risk  a  statutory  dec- 
laration that  it  was  as  searching  and  reliable  as  it  was  sup- 
posed to  be.  For  instance,  one  of  our  batch,  and  he  was 
big  enough  to  carry  the  mental  cargo  of  the  whole  class, 
was  so  full  of  emptiness  that  he  could  not  even  read— he 
knew  absolutely  nothing  outside  the  alphabet  so  far  as 
could  be  discovered.  Yet  he  got  through  his  examination  I 
The  fact  is,  the  rest  of  the  boys  took  as  much  friendly 
interest  in  him  as  if  he  were  the  last  unsaved  heathen  and 
they  a  concentrated  conclave  of  missionaries  whose  only  re- 
maining object  was  his  eternal  welfare ;  when  the  minister 
asked  him  a  question  they  ** salted"  him  as  a  worthless 

89 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

mine  is  salted  by  its  would-be  vendors,  by  whispering  the 
answer  or  signalling  it.  We  felt  the  same  breathless  self- 
sacrificing  interest  in  him  as  if  he  were  a  man  overboard 
in  mid-ocean  and  we  in  honor  bound  to  rescue  him,  and  at 
last  after  the  greatest  trouble  and  risk,  for  a  few  very 
nearly  got  cast  away  themselves  in  their  desperate  efforts, 
we  succeeded.  Perhaps,  though,  the  minister  himself  knew 
what  was  going  on  and  "winked  the  other  eye."  Anyhow, 
we  did  get  him  through,  and  soon  afterwards  a  rich  manu- 
facturer took  a  fancy  to  him  and  gave  him  a  good  situa- 
tion; and  in  addition  engaged  a  private  tutor  to  coach 
him— but  it  was  all  in  vain;  he  was  either  invulnerably 
armor-plated  against  all  educational  guns  or  else  he  had 
no  stowage  capacity.  But  he  was  a  fine  strapping  young 
fellow,  and  at  the  age  of  eighteen  had  somehow  or  other 
attained  the  honors  and  dignity  of  the  married  state.  At 
twenty  he  had  to  serve  in  the  army,  under  the  conscrip- 
tion law,  and  being  then  a  splendidly  developed  man  of 
over  six  feet  in  height  he  was  drafted  to  serve  in  one  of 
the  four  regiments  of  Imperial  Guards  at  Berlin— a  regi- 
ment nick-named  the  *' Beetles."  I  remember  so  well  how 
proud  his  mother  was  of  her  '  *  Heinrich ' '  being  so  honored, 
and  how  the  poor  woman  used  to  seize  every  opportunity 
of  talking  of  the  matter.  The  poor  soul  no  doubt  looked 
eagerly  forward  to  the  time  when  her  big  Heinrich  should 
be  home  on  leave,  parading  haughtily  in  his  splendid  uni- 
form and  horsehair-plumed  helmet  the  abashed  streets  of 
our  little  town,  filling  other  mothers  with  envy,  their 
daughters,  eyes  with  ''side-long  looks  of  love,"  the  young 
men  with  furious  jealousy,  children  with  admiring  awe; 
and  the  old  night-watchman,  the  two  constables,  and  the 
fire-brigade  with  hopeless  despair. 

But,  ''There's  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the  lip. 
Within  four  months  he  did  land  home  again,  one  fine 
day;  not,  however,  as  his  fond  mother  had  pictured;  he 
slouched  along,  a  depected,  bashful  giant  inglorious  in  his 
old  civilian  clothes,  with  a  discharge  for  "general  stupid- 
ity. ' '  The  poor  fellow  must  have  had  a  pretty  sultry  time,^ 
for  drill  instructors  do  not  easily  discharge  a  recruit  onc( 
they  get  him. 

90 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

But  we  must  get  back  to  examination  day.  The  minister 
was  a  rather  short  stout  elderly  man  with  a  full  moon  face, 
grey  whiskers  in  a  crescent-shaped  thicket  passing  under 
the  chin,  rather  long  grey  hair  curling  upwards  at  the 
ends,  and  pale  blue  eyes— a  little  weak  and  watery— to 
aid  which  he  usually  wore  a  pair  of  spectacles  (more 
often  pushed  upon  his  forehead  than  in  practical  use)  — 
a  kindly,  pleasant,  rather  emotional  man,  his  sturdy  figure 
clad  in  a  black  cassock  reaching  to  his  feet,  with  a  white 
ruffled  collar  standing  out  horizontally  round  his  neck. 
His  ' '  get-up ' '  was  in  the  style  of  the  Protestant  ' '  Reform- 
ers" of  Luther's  day. 

The  examination  over,  or  in  plainer  sea-going  English, 
our  hulls  being  now  finished  from  keel  to  gunwale  and  pass- 
ed by  the  official  chief  naval  achitect,  the  minister,  that 
worthy  official,  as  was  his  custom  on  such  occasions,  gave 
us  a  farewell  address  by  way  of  fixed  ballast  prior  to 
knocking  the  dog-shores  away  at  the  Confirmation  Service 
which  was  to  follow  on  the  succeeding  Sunday. 

Being  pretty  well  aware  beforehand,  from  current  le- 
gends, of  the  moving  nature  of  the  impending  discourse 
and  that  some  watery  emotion  on  our  part  would  be  both 
etiquette  and  a  graceful  compliment  to  our  worthy  spirit- 
ual coach,  we  boys,  in  order  to  insure  such  dutiful  courtesy, 
had  thoughtfully  provided  ourselves  with  strong  onions  in 
our  pockets  so  that  we  might  at  proper  times  unseal  the 
frozen  fountain  of  our  tears.  That  is  one  of  the  minor 
disadvantages  of  being  a  boy — girls  can  get  along  without 
onions  for  such  purposes. 

Of  course,  the  minister 's  large  room  smelt  like  a  produce 
store  well  stocked  with  "Spanish;"  but  that  was  not  spe- 
cially remarkable,  for  we  German  boys  were  so  addicted 
to  this  vegetable,  and  probably  the  good  pastor  also,  that 
this  aroma  must  have  been  very  pronounced  at  all  times 
when  the  class  was  in  session. 

We  were  reminded  that  this  was  a  most  important  occa- 
sion in  our  lives,  we  were  leaving  behind  us  our  childhood 
with  its  various  stages  of  short  frocks  and  short  pants  and 
gingerbread  and  other  trifling  pleasures  (here  we  sniffed 
at  our  onions)  and  were  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  be- 

91 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

come  men— we  must  put  on  manly  things.  (We  here  let 
our  minds  stray  to  our  chimney-pot  hats  and  new  clothes 
ready  for  Sunday,  and  to  secret  pipes  and  tobacco).  We 
were  reminded  of  the  loving  care  of  parents,  teachers,  and 
himself  (he  took  off  and  wiped  his  spectacles,  and  we  duly 
reciprocated  in  our  own  rough  and  ready  fashion),  the 
time  had  come  for  him  to  bid  us  farewell  (more  spas- 
modic weeping  all  round)  and  give  us  a  few  words  of 
parting  advice — and  then  he  rambled  on  warning  us  of  the 
many  dangers  of  ''the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil" 
and  exhorting  us  to  avoid  this  and  that,  to  attend  church 
and  to  business,  to  obey  our  masters,  be  good  citizens,  and 
generally  to  serve  God  and  the  King  with  about  equal 
reverence  and  fervor;  winding  up  with  an  impressive 
prayer,  and  a  ceremonial  hand-shake  all  round. 

Well,  the  great  day  came  at  last— the  Sunday  when  we 
were  to  be  ''confirmed" — officially  launched,  as  it  were,  on 
the  waters  of  life. 

Picture  to  yourself,  reader,  an  undersized  boy  of  fifteen, 
clad  in  second-hand  Beaufort  coat,  trousers  also  second- 
hand (a  good  deal  too  long  and  roomy),  and  a  "chimney- 
pot" hat  of  like  status  and  comparative  dimensions  (a 
necessary  adjunct  to  every  boy  candidate  for  confirmation 
— perhaps  to  impress  on  him  the  solemnitude  and  dignity 
of  the  event). 

I  assure  you  that  as  I  majestically  strutted  to  the  church 
I  felt  myself  a  full-fledged  gamecock,  a  man  every  inch 
(and  a  few  extra)  althhough  I  was  the  smallest  of  the 
candidates,  about  two  hundred  in  all,  and  although  I  must 
confess  that  I  felt  much  the  same  sensation  of  discomfort 
in  my  not  very  well  fitting  garments  as  did  David  when 
he  tried  on  the  armor  of  King  Saul.  Though  I  after- 
wards grew  rapidly,  I  was  at  that  time  vp.rv  amo}\  for  my 
age,  which  fact  I  attribute  to  my  semi-starvation.  So  pain- 
fully conscious  was  I  of  the  space  above  where  I  was  not, 
that  I  induced  the  bootmaker  to  give  me  a  lift  in  that  di- 
rection by  putting  extra  high  heels  under  my  boots.  In 
spite  of  this  aid,  and  of  bracing  up  those  second-hand  trous- 
ers as  buttons,  braces,  and  my  own  construction  would 
stand,  I  could  not  keep  them  off  the  ground;  every  step 

92 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


I  took  my  foot  and  leg  seemed  to  be  in  a  collapsible  mine, 
and  when  the  foot  reached  bottom  the  sides  of  the  mine 
had  sagged  in  surprise  pleats  and  folds  that  must  have 


I 


made  me  look  knock-kneed  and  bow-legged  in  several  places. 
Furtively,  I  would  hold  them  up  like  a  ladv  her  skirts. 
My  coat  collar,  one  of  the  old  high-peaked  saddle  style, 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

kept  colliding  with  the  back  rim  of  my  hat  and  jerking 
it  unexpectedly  over  my  eyes,  and  it  rested  like  a  huge 
cone  of  buckram  and  past  sins  upon  my  back  and  shoulders, 
and  the  tail  alternately  got  under  my  heels  and  flapped  far 
and  wide  in  the  gusty  wind,  even  sometimes  playfully  em- 
bracing or  flicking  my  already  much  worried  hat.  That 
hat  was  of  the  ''stove-pipe"  genus,  with  a  perfectly  flat- 
brim,  and  being  selected  with  a  view  to  fitting  me  in  the  fu- 
ture as  well  as  at  the  time,  allowing,  as  it  were,  for  a  mar- 
gin of  growth;  in  spite  of  a  little  brown  paper  padding 
inside,  it  kept  jerking  down  until  it  rested  heavily  on  my 
ears,  which  it  spread  out  horizontally,  not  unlike  a  sheep 's. 

I  may  add  that  to  enhance  my  swelling  dignity  one  of 
the  pockets  of  my  over-long  waistcoat  was  bulged  out  with 
what  form  the  protuberance  caused  might  well  have  been 
guessed  to  be  an  apple— or  an  onion  for  devotional  pur- 
poses; but  it  was  nothing  of  the  sort— it  was  a  quaint  old- 
fashioned  watch  of  turnip  shape  and  size  attached  to  a  jet 
Albert  chain. 

This  conspicuous  watch  was,  of  course,  in  great,  if  need- 
less, request  throughout  that  confirmation  service,  and  in- 
deed the  whole  day. 

Notwithstanding  its  valuable  aid,  or  hindrance,  I  was 
late  at  church  and  had  to  forge  my  way  through  the  mass 
of  boys  standing  in  the  aisles  to  reach  my  due  position  at 
the  front,  for  I  was  one  of  the  head  pupils,  if  a  short  one    • 


94 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MY    FIRST    CRUISE— APPRENTICESHIP. 

Well,  having  shed  my  school  bag  and  the  privilege  of 
sinning  promiscuously  at  the  risk  of  my  god-father,  and 
being  now  clad  and  armoured  by  the  minister  with  personal 
responsibility,  it  became  my  duty,  as  it  was  my  strong  de- 
sire to  choose  an  occupation. 

Living  so  near  Hamburg,  I  had,  of  course,  seen  a  great 
deal  about  steam  ships,  trains,  and  machinery  generally, 
and  partly,  perhaps,  for  such  reasons  had  long  thought  I 
should  like  to  be  an  engineer  or  something  of  that  kind. 

So  I  was  bound  as  an  apprentice  to  a  locksmith  for  four 
years.  I  looked  forward  with  joyful  eagerness  to  being 
out  of  range  of  my  stepmother  (for  apprenticeship  en- 
tailed residence  with  the  master)  and  to  the  prospect  of 
comparative  liberty.  But  my  worthy,  well-meaning  but 
misguided  teachers  had  overlooked  some  important  neces- 
saries in  provisioning  me  for  life's  voyage.  I  had  to  forage 
a  good  deal  for  myself,  and  the  first  useful  bit  of  knowledge 
I  unearthed  was,  ''The  devil  you  know  is  better  than  the 
devil  you  don 't  know, ' '  for  in  my  ha^te  to  escape  from  the 
female  devil  of  the  domestic  frying-pan  I  jumped  into  the 
fire  of  a  sweater  of  the  worst  type. 

As  for  some  years  past  at  home,  I  had  to  sleep  in  an  attic. 
That  I  did  not  so  much  mind.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  only 
thing  and  time  during  day  and  night  from  which  a  cheer- 
ful imagination  could  extract  any  pleasure— and  that  was 
short-lived.  For  at  six  o  ^clock  the  daily  executioner  would 
knock  violently  under  our  floor  with  a  long,  heavy  stick— 
the  floor  of  our  room  being  his  ceiling — and  if  we  were 
not  at  our  beaches  in  the  workshop  in  about  three  minutes 
we  found  a  white  squall  of  reproaches  and  profanity  await- 
ing us.  When  it  subsided  into  some  little  coherency  (and 
printability)  he  would  impress  upon  us  that  we  were  basely 
ungrateful  for  the  mild  and  sunny  pleasantness  in  which 

96 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

our  lot  was  cast— that  he,  when  an  apprentice,  had  to  get 
up  with  a  bang  at  hwe  o  'clock  and  be  at  his  work  as  if  kick- 
ed there  by  a  horse;  if  not,  he  would  find  his  "boss"  wait- 
ing at  the  foot  of  the  staircase  with  a  big  rope's  end  in 
his  hand  and  a  very  painful  lesson  with  it  on  the  import- 
ance of  punctuality  in  business.  Then  our  boss,  overcome 
by  a  sense  of  his  own  weak-kneed  laxity,  would  furtively 
wipe  away  a  few  salt  tears  and  a  self-  condemnatory  blush 
and  make  things  hum. 

We  had  to  work  at  high  pressure  till  eight  o'clock,  with 
nothing  more  substantial  in  our  stomachs  than  the  remem- 
brance of  the  previous  night's  supper.  Then  the  ''Misses" 
would  scurry  in  with  a  few  slices  of  bread  and  a  cup  of 
wish-washy  tea  which  we  had  to  stow  under  hatches  with 
the  briskness  of  a  man-of-war  crew  loading  the  coalbunkers ; 
otherwise  the  cyclone  was  back  sputtering  unswallowed  food 
and  fury,  asking  if  we  thought  we  had  half  an  hour  for 
breakfast.  At  twelve  o'clock  dinner  was  rushed  in  and 
down  in  the  same  style;  late  in  the  afternoon  coffee  and 
rolls;  and  work  went  on  till  seven  in  the  evening,  when 
we  knocked  off  for  tea.  Such  was  every  day,  including 
Saturday.  Sunday  morning  I  had  to  clean  up  the  work- 
shop, and  after  dinner  I  was  allowed  off  the  chain  to  go 
out  where  I  would. 

Boys  now-a-days  don't  know  what  apprenticeship  is. 
But  it  must  be  admitted  the  old  system  turned  out  first 
class  tradesmen.  I  myself  was  able  to  make  my  stepmother 
a  coal  scuttle  as  a  Christmas-box,  after  being  at  my  trade 
for  only  six  weeks.  Of  course,  this  was  made  after  work- 
ing hours. 

Though  the  work  was  hard  it  was  not  that  I  minded  so 
much;  in  fact,  I  liked  the  work  itself.  It  was  the  treat- 
ment that  was  so  galling.  That  brute  was  not  fit  to  have 
charge  of  a  dog,  much  less  a  human  being.  I  can  only 
spare  room  for  one  or  two  incidents,  just  to  give  you  a 
little  idea  what  sort  of  a  man  he  was. 

One  day  he  sent  me  to  get  some  clay  in  a  big  tin  to  b« 
used  for  some  work  we  had  in  hand.  It  was  a  bitterly 
cold  day,  the   thermometer    somewhere   about   30   degreea 

96 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

(Centigrade)  under  freezing  point  and  the  clay  consequent- 
ly as  hard  as  a  rock.  I  broke  off  with  my  hammer,  and 
with  no  little  difficulty,  as  much  as  I  thought  sufficient  for 
the  required  purpose  and  returned  with'  the  big  tin  not  quite 
full.  As  soon  as  I  entered  the  workshop  he  struck  me  a 
blow  on  the  ear  that  sent  my  cap  flying  to  the  other  end 
of  the  shop,  for  no  other  reason  than  the  tin  being  not  quite 
full.  Being  only  a  small  boy,  what  could  I  do  against  such 
a  brute?    And  there  was  no  one  to  take  my  part. 

He  had  some  house  property  of  his  own,  and  being  in- 
curably quarrelsome,  he  was  always  in  conflict  with  the 
City  Council;  sometimes  the  dustman  did  not  come  early 
enough;  at  another  time  the  streets  were  not  swept  clean 
enough  for  his  liking,  and  so  on.  On  one  occasion— I  don't 
know  what  his  grievance  was  this  time— he  went  up  to  the 
Town  Hall  with  some  tools  in  is  hands,  had  hot  words  with 
the  officials,  then  to  give  emphasis  to  his  oratory  seized  his 
5-lb.  weight  hammer  and  with  it  struck  so  h^avy  a  blow  on 
the  desk  that  the  ink  pots  flew  out  of  their  sockets,  then  he 
was  pounced  upon  and  after  a  rough-and-tumble  he  was 
pitched  out  neck  and  crop,  a  glass  door  on  the  staircase 
getting  broken  in  the  tussle,  and  three  of  his  flngers  also 
broken  and  badly  cut  by  the  glass. 

When  he  returned  to  our  workshop  his  hand  was  bleed- 
ing terribly,  and  he  had  to  go  for  about  seven  weeks 
with  that  hand  in  plaster  of  Paris.  It  was  a  stroke  of  luck 
and  a  relief  for  us,  especially  as  it  was  his  right  hand,  so 
that  it  was  not  nearly  so  easy  for  him  to  hit  us. 

In  those  days  a  master  had  the  legal  power  to  inflict 
** fatherly"  punishment.  This  practically  meant  as  severe 
as  the  master  liked.  If  a  boy  had  a  father,  that  father 
was  in  most  cases  a  natural  court  of  appeal  and  protection ; 
but  if  an  orphan  like  I,  he  was  helpless. 

I  used  to  visit  the  widow  I  referred  to  in  a  former  chap- 
ter as  she  had  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  with  whom 
I  was  friendly.  One  day  she  remarked  that  she  needed  a 
new  key  for  one  of  her  doors  and  as  she  was  poor  I  offered 
to  get  her  one.  We  had  any  amount  of  old  ones  in  our 
old-iron  scrap-heap,  so  I  picked  out  one  and  fixed  it  up. 
But  our  ** Missis"   must   have   searched   my   pockets   and 

97 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

found  it  there,  for  I  was  suddenly  confronted  with  it  and 
for  about  a  week  afterwards  that  unlucky  key  was  like 
Banquo's  ghost— it  met  me  everywhere  and  the  air  seemed 
to  fairly  thunder  keys,  although  it  was  of  no  value  what- 
ever. 

Another  time  I  got  into  the  hottest  of  hot  water  by  go- 
ing out  with  another  apprentice  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  for  a  surreptitious  holiday.  Of  course,  this  was 
decidedly  wrong,  but  the  occasion  was  innocent  enough, 
merely  a  wild  desire  for  a  little  freedom.  Our  absence  was 
discovered  and  when  we  got  back  we  had  a  particularly 
unpleasant  time  and  had  to  forfeit  two  proper  holidays  for 
this  adventure. 

As  you  may  guess,  my  life  seemed  a  burden  beyond  en- 
durance; many  a  time  I  thought  of  committing  suicide, 
and  twice  made  efforts  to  escape.  The  first  was  when  I  had 
been  there  only  about  eleven  weelis.  I  felt  already  that 
I  had  quite  enough  of  that  pantomime,  and  one  evening 
after  an  ear-boxing  performance  I  resolved  to  clear  out 
at  once.  So  after  tea  I  made  a  bundle  of  my  few  belong- 
ings, and  as  soon  as  everything  was  quiet  and  it  was  dark 
enough  I  stole  down  the  staircase,  out  of  the  backdoor, 
scaled  the  back  fence,  and  went  home  to  my  step-parents. 
Their  reception  of  me  was  decidedly  discouraging,  but 
they  gave  me  lodging  for  the  night. 

I  may  as  well  tell  you  how  I  managed  to  overcome  that 
back  fence,  which  was  a  pretty  high  one.  I  tried  to  find 
a  box  to  climb  on,  for  we  generally  had  one  or  two  knock- 
ing about,  but  there  were  none  to  be  found  neither  was 
there  anything  else  that  would  serve  my  purpose— by  the 
way,  it  is  nearly  always  so  if  you  are  in  any  difficulty  and 
want  a  friend's  help,  or  that  of  a  policeman;  you  can  find 
neither.  I  was  for  a  few  minutes  in  a  fix;  but  I  was  al- 
ways a  very  resourceful  boy  and  in  the  habit  of  getting  my 
own  way  somehow.  My  chimney-pot  hat  (nearly  two  feet 
high)  was  in  that  bundle,  but  out  it  came  and  I  speedily 
filled  it  with  sand  and  placed  it  bottom  upwards  against 
the  fence  with  a  small  piece  of  sheet  iron  to  cover  the  top. 
I  also  tied  a  longish  piece  of  stout  string  to  the  hat,  and 
making  a  stepping  stool  of  it,  I  was  soon  on  the  other  side 

98 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

of  the  fence  having  taken  the  precaution  when  on  top  of 
the  fence  to  haul  up  my  useful  chimney-pot,  empty  the 
sand  from  it  and  lower  it  on  the  right  side.  So  after  all, 
don't  rashly  conclude  that  you  are  friendless,  but  trust 
in  Providence  and  use  your  own  hat. 

At  six  o'clock  next  morning  my  tormentor  was  at  our 
door  demanding  my  surrender.  I  obstinately  refused  i/o 
return,  so  he  had  me  brought  before  a  magistrate,  and  as 
there  was  not  a  soul  to  protect  me,  a  policeman  was  ordered 
to  escort  me  back  to  my  master.  My  step-parents  had  no 
legal  power  in  the  matter,  and  the  god-father  or  trustee 
recognized  by  law  being  very  friendly  with  Mr.  Boss  was 
easily  persuaded  by  the  latter  that  I  was  well  treated  and 
was  an  unthankful  and  discontented  lad. 

My  next  attempt  to  get  away  from  that  wretch  was  at 
the  time  of  the  outbreak  of  war  between  Germany  and 
France  in  1870. 

One  morning  one  of  my  master's  tenants  came  running 
into  our  work-shop  with  the  morning  paper  in  his  hand 
and  calling  out  excitedly,  "My  word,  Herr  ''Boss,"  the 
Prench  have  declared  war  against  us,  I  will  bet  you  any- 
thing we  shall  have  the  French  here  in  fourteen  days!" 
He  did  not  know  how  well  our  Government  was  prepared, 
but  so  far  as  his  prophecy  was  concerned,  he  was  right  in 
the  letter,  though  not  in  the  spirit,  for  in  about  three  weeks 
we  had  some  French  prisoners  of  war  in  our  town,  whereas 
of  course  the  rash  prophet  had  meant  the  French  would  oc- 
cupy the  town  as  victors.  I  can  tell  you  my  heart  jumped 
with  joy  when  I  heard  this  first  news  of  the  war.  I  thought 
"Here  is  my  chance  of  getting  away,"  for  I  supposed  that 
the  Government  would  be  only  too  glad  to  get  as  many  re- 
cruits as  possible  for  the  army.  So  the  first  time  my 
"Boss"  sent  be  on  a  message  I  went  to  the  Command- 
ant to  volunteer,  but  to  my  great  consternation  I  was 
told  I  was  not  wanted  as  there  were  plenty  of  trained  men 
available.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  reserves  were  not  all 
called  upon.  Thousands  of  Germans  came  home  from 
America  eager  to  fight  for  the  Fatherland,  but  while  the 
Government  thanked  them  for  their  patriotism  they  were 
not  accepted  and  had  to  return  to  America,  being,  how- 

99 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ever,  promised  that  if  needed  at  some  future  time  they 
would  be  duly  notified.  So  my  fine  scheme  came  to  noth- 
ing. It  was  useless  to  run  away,  for  the  police  would  have 
only  brought  me  back  once  more. 

My  only  course  was  to  wait  until  some  act  of  my  ' '  Boss ' 
would  enable  me  to  formulate  a  legal  complaint  against 
him. 


100 


CHAPTER.  XVII. 

A  FEW  WAR  NOTES. 

While  we  are  waiting  for  a  ground  of  action  against 
that  boy-sweater,  Herr  "Boss"  and  as  the  great  war  was 
meantime  in  full  swing,  I  may  as  well  give  you,  reader,  a 
little  variety  in  the  shape  of  an  anecdotal  interlude. 

The  trains  were,  of  course,  rattling  night  and  day  over 
the  rails  conveying  our  troops  to  the  Rhine,  Strasburg, 
Metz,  Sedan,  and  the  other  great  centres  of  the  Titanic 
struggle— and  on  the  return  journey  bringing  armies  of  the 
wounded  and  of  French  prisoners. 

As  Herr  '  *  Boss ' '  was  a  property-owner  he  had  every  few 
days  an  officer  and  his  orderly  "billetted"  upon  him.  One 
of  these  officers  one  night  met  a  private  soldier  in  the 
street  and  demandeii  to  see  the  latter 's  leave  ticket.  The 
soldier  had  probably  been  indulging  his  patriotism  a  little 
freely  and  was  so  full  of  good  beer  and  aerated  dignity 
as  to  feel  superior  to  distinctions  of  rank  and  sought  to 
avenge  the  affront  from  the  other  gentleman  in  the  usual 
gentlemanly  way— with  his  sword !  But  the  officer,  who 
was  a  fine  big-bodied  and  big-hearted  man,  instead  of 
drawing  his  own  cold-steel,  simply  reduced  the  elevated 
one's  ''swelled  head"  by  giving  it  a  big  bump  from  his 
fist  in  front  and  incidentally  another  bump  where  it 
struck  the  ground  in  its  sudden  descent— a  ''striking"  il- 
lustration of  "like  cures  like."  And  there  the  officer  left 
him. 

Next  morning  that  now  very  sober  soldier  same  into  our 
workshop  where  the  orderly  was  cleaning  the  officer's  uni- 
form. He  knew  that  he  had  been  guilty  of  a  military  crime 
for  which  the  penalty  in  time  of  war  was  to  be  shot,  and 
the  poor  fellow  naturally  felt  that  the  outlook  was  far  from 
pleasant.  He  said  he  would  not  so  much  mind  being  shot 
by  some  Frenchman  in  battle— but  to  be  shot  ^'jiist  before 
he  got  to  the  war!''  he  could  not  regard  with  any  sense  of 


k 


101 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

satisfaction.  So  you  see  "Irish-bulls"  can  be  made  in  Ger- 
many as  well  as  other  things.  Our  orderly  advised  him  to 
go  and  beg  forgiveness  of  the  officer.  This  advice  he  fol- 
lowed, and  when  he  came  out  again  he  told  us  that  through 
the  intersession  of  the  officer's  wife  (who  had  accompanied 
her  husband  as  far  only  as  our  place)  he  had  been  par- 
doned ;  but  had  to  lose  his  shoulder-button,  which  was  con- 
sidered a  great  degradation. 

The  colonel  of  a  regim.ent  I  knew  well,  a  regiment  drawn 
from  a  locality  not  far  from  Hamburg,  was  such  a  marti- 
net and  so  disliked  by  his  men,  that  when  they  received 
orders  to  go  to  the  front  and  he  was  officially  addressing 
them  as  is  the  custom,  he  told  them  that  he  was  quite 
aware  they  hated  him  and  would  shoot  him  in  battle  at 
the  first  opportunity.  "I  have  only  one  request  to  make," 
he  said,  "and  that  is  that  you  will  shoot  straight."  In 
the  first  battle  that  regiment  took  part  in  he  was  killed— 
with  eleven  bullets  through  his  body!  That  regiment  was 
thereafter  given  such  positions  of  danger  that  it  was  al- 
most entirely  "wiped  out;"  such  are  some  of  the  features 
of  war. 


102 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  LAW  BEFRIENDS  ME. 

I  could  quote  a  score  of  musty,  dusty  old  proverbs  as  to 
the  rewards  of  patience,  and  you  could,  no  doubt,  cut  them 
to  pieces  with  any  one  of  as  many  rusty  old  saws  to  the 
contrary— to  say  nothing  of  keen  edged  up-to-date  satire. 
However,  in  my  case  patience  was  at  last  rewarded,  for 
my  chance  of  escape  came  along  rather  suddenly. 

One  Friday  my  taskmaster  told  me  to  make  an  ash-box 
for  an  oven.  That  evening  it  was  finished  and  I  left  it  on 
the  bench  at  his  place  and  on  Saturday  went  on  with  other 
work,  making  locks.  He  came  in  thiat  morning  under  a 
full  head  of  steam  as  usual  and  steered  straight  for  that 
job.  After  a  rapid  survey  of  the  ash-box  he  naturally  pro- 
ceeded to  try  how  it  fitted  the  hole  for  it  in  the  oven-plate, 
but  he  depended  more  on  main  strength  and  profanity 
than  on  skill,  and  it  jammed,  notwithstanding  violent 
knocks  and  wrenches,  being  not  quite  free  enough.  By  this 
time  his  engines  were  fairly  racing,  and  to  top  all,  while  I 
was  trying  to  take  a  little  out  of  the  plate-hole,  I  dropped 
the  plate  and  it  broke.  Then  he  seized  the  ash-Dox  and  very 
nearly  broke  me  with  a  blow  in  the  side  with  it;  the  ash- 
box  was  knocked  out  of  shape  and  he  hurled  it  to  the  other 
side  of  the  workshop,  and  coaled  up  afresh  with  forced 
draught,  fairly  roaring  out  oaths  and  curses  at  me  and 
ordering  me  to  '  *  clear  out,  as  I  did  not  earn  my  salt, ' '  and 
so  on.  As  soon  as  I  heard  the  welcome  order  to  go  I  took 
him  at  his  word,  got  into  my  boots  with  the  greatest  agility, 
and  fairly  ran  out  of  the  shop.  But  he  was  just  such  an- 
other as  the  ten-plagued  Pharoah  of  Egypt— shouldn't  be 
surprised  if  he  was  the  same  re-incarnated— I  had  no 
sooner  begun  my  Exodus  than  he  was  after  me,  and  I 
having  no  miraculous  intervention,  he  caught  aad  hauled 
me  back  in  much  the  same  style  as  a  terrier  treats  a  rat. 

103 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

But  I  was  resolved  to  stand  it  no  longer,  though  we  mended 
the  oyen-plate  in  comparative  calm,  and  I  daresay  he 
thought  that  little  account  was  ruled  off. 

I  had  a  different  estimate.  Next  day  being  Sunday  I 
quietly  did  my  morning  clearing-up,  took  my  dinner  as 
usual,  and  then  went  out  as  though  for  my  weekly  jollifi- 
cation. Instead,  however,  of  going  in  search  of  pleasure 
I  went  straight  to  the  house  of  the  Superintendent  of  Po- 
lice and  rang  the  bell.  The  maid  who  opened  the  door 
looked  rather  astonished  on  my  inquiring  for  her  master. 
I  suppose  she  thought  I  did  not  look  much  like  a  welcome 
acquaintance,  but  might  be  some  poor  relation,  say  of  un- 
recognized standing. 

However,  whatever  her  description  and  his  conjectures 
(uneasy  or  otherwise)  may  have  been,  he  came  down  him- 
self to  reconnoitre,  and  after  a  cursory  inspection  invited 
me  inside  the  hall.  I  at  once  began  to  pour  out  my  tale, 
but  it  was  a  bitterly  cold  day  and  he  was  shivering  in  a 
dress-suit,  so  he  kindly  took  me  into  the  parlor  where  there 
was  a  nice  fire  and  several  gentlemen  sitting  round  a  table 
playing  cards.  He  took  his  seat  and  listened  attentively 
to  my  complaint,  then  told  me  to  see  him  in  the  Court  next 
day  and  that  I  need  not  return  to  my  employer  meantime. 
This  gave  me  immense  relief,  and  I  slept  peacefully  that 
night  at  my  stepfather's  house. 

But  in  the  early  morning  my  prosecutor  was  at  the  door 
exhaling  wrath  and  threats,  though  without  effect.  Later 
in  the  day  I  called  upon  the  Superintendent  of  Police  as 
instructed,  and  he  sent  me  with  a  note  stating  my  case,  to 
the  Mayor,  as  mine  was  a  civil  case. 

Now,  knowing  that  my  employer  was  always  at  logger- 
heads with  Municipal  Council,  I  felt  sure  of  a  fair  hearing 
by  the  Mayor  and  that  my  case  was  as  good  as  won,  and  a 
big  stone  seemed  to  roll  off  my  heart  and  fall  into  a  bot- 
tomless abyss. 

Well,  the  case  was  duly  heard  and  I  had  as  witnesses  in 
support  of  my  complaint  twO'  boys  who  had  also  been  ap- 
prentices in  the  same  shop  and  whose  parents  would  not 
allow  them  to  remain  and  be  treated  as  I  was.  The  Court's 
decision  was  that  my  master  had  forfeited  all  claim  upon 

104 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

me  and  he  was  ordered  to  hand  over  my  clothes.  Accord- 
ingly, I  went,  accompanied  by  a  detective,  to  get  my  things ; 
but  on  reaching  home  we  discovered  that  my  unprincipled 
ex-master  had  taken  my  little  saving,  about  35  cents,  out  of 
my  small  cashbox.  But  my  escape  made  that  loss  seem  as 
nothing.  Those  two  years  of  my  first  apprenticeship  were 
amongst  the  most  miserable  in  my  life.  Better  days  were 
coming,  however. 


105 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  PLEASANT  TIME— A  FIRST-RATE  MASTER. 

A  few  days  after  my  return  home  I  met  one  of  my  late 
employer's  customers,  and  after  a  few  friendly  enquiries 
he  gave  me  the  address  of  a  tradesman  in  Hamburg,  tell- 
ing me  to  call  there  and  that  I  would  be  taken  on,  as  he  had 
already  recommended  me  and  a  promise  had  been  given 
by  that  tradesman.  The  latter  on  seeing  me  thought  I 
was  rather  small,  but  took  me  for  four  weeks  on  trial, 
after  which  I  was  duly  accepted  as  an  apprentice,  remain- 
ing there  two  years. 

At  first  he  had  some  little  trouble  with  me  because 
coming  from  such  a  slave-driver  as  I  did,  I  was  always 
in  too  much  of  a  hurry.  ' '  Don 't  hurry,  but  do  your  work 
well,"  was  his  constant  advice,   and  good  advice  it  was. 

I  began  to  feel  that  life  was  really  worth  living  after 
all.  We  had  plenty  to  eat^  and  kind  treatment.  During 
the  first  six  months  I  was  there  I  grew  three  inches  in 
height.  It  had  been  many  years  since  I  had  such  good  food 
and  treatment  as  I  received  there,  and  if  ever  I  should 
find  myself  once  more  in  Hamburg  and  he  should  be  still 
alive — which  is  naturally  doubtful— he  would  be  the  first 
man  I  would  call  to  see,  and  it  would  afford  me  great  de- 
light to  express  my  gratitude  to  him. 

'We  often  had  to  work  long  hours,  for  we  had  a  lot 
of  machinery  repairing  to  do,  and  in  most  cases  this  had  to 
be  done  at  night  so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the  factory 
hands.  But  how  glad  I  was  to  work  for  him,  simply  be- 
cause he  treated  me  kindly. 

Many  times  when  things  were  slack  in  winter  he  would 
say,  "Well,  you  had  better  go  skating  this  afternoon." 

The  following  incident  will  further  show  what  a  good 
disposition  he  had: 

About  six  months  after  I  went  to  him,  an  epidemic  of 
small-pox   was   raging  throughout   Germany— one   of   the 

106 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

results  of  the  war.  The  hospitals  could  not  accommodate 
the  patients,  and  big  barracks  had  to  be  built  for  the  over- 
How.  Neither  were  there  enough  doctors  and  nurses,  ow- 
ing to  so  many  being  on  the  battlefields  in  France.  Con- 
sequently over  half  of  the  small-pox  patients  died  for 
want  of  attention. 

For  convenience  I  will  call  my  new  employer  "Herr 
Richter." 

So  far  his  house  had  escaped  this  terrible  scourge.  But 
one  day  I  felt  very  sick  and  in  the  evening  told  him  that 
I  had  several  pimples  on  my  arm.  He  examined  them  and 
then  consulted  a  friend  of  his  who  was  there  on  a  visit. 
He  did  not  think  it  was  that  dread  disease,  so  I  went  to 
bed.  Next  morning,  however,  there  was  no  room  for  doubt, 
the  symptoms  were  only  too  plain.  A  doctor  who  was 
called  in  ordered  my  instant  removal  from  the  house,  es- 
pecially because  Plerr  Richter  had  six  little  children.  The 
doctor  said  that  most  likely  everybody  in  the  house  would 
take  the  disease. 

But  Herr  Richter  knew  well  that  the  removal  alone 
might  be  fatal  to  me,  so  he  said,  "No,  Doctor,  the  youth 
took  sick  here,  and  here  he  will  remain ;  I  will  do  my  best 
to  keep  him  isolated,  and  if  w^e  get  the  disease  it  cannot 
be  helped."  As  this  sort  of  thing  looked  like  good  trade 
for  the  doctor  iind  was  not  in  his  present  contract,  he 
raised  no  more  objections  but  just  prescribed  for  me,  and 
(contrary  to  his  expectations)  we  saw  no  more  of  him. 
One  of  our  workmen  who  had  graduated  in  small-pox  and 
was  therefore  armour-proof  against  it  looked  after  me,  and 
as  my  room  was  on  the  fourth  story  it  was  easy  to  keep 
me  isolated,  so  that  no  one  else  in  the  house  suffered.  In 
three  week's  time  I  had  recovered.  I  relate  this  incident 
only  to  do  honor  to  the  man  iwho,  though  all  but  a 
stranger  to  me,  had  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart  risked  so 
much. 

The  war  was  raging  at  its  height  at  that  time,  and  pris- 
oners of  war  came  in  droves  by  almost  every  train.  Those 
on  ''parole"  were  quartered  with  private  peonle  who  wish- 
ed to  let  rooms  to  French  soldiers  desiring  such  accommo- 

107 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

dation.  Many  people  made  a  good  bit  of  money  in  this  way. 
Most  of  the  French  officers  rented  the  best  rooms  they 
could  get.  Herr  Richter  let  his  parlor  and  his  own  bed- 
room to  one  of  these  French  officers  and  his  orderly,  so 
they  had  a  far  better  time  of  it  than  our  poor  fellows  out 
in  the  snow  or  rain  and  biting  winds  at  the  seat  of  war. 


MY   FRIEND.  A    FRENCH    PRISONER   OF  WAR,    1870 

These  prisoners  on  their  parole  only  had  to  attend  twice 
a  week  at  roll  call.  Still,  their  position  was  galling,  and 
most  of  them  were  very  bitter  about  it.  Many  times  our 
officer-lodger  would  say,  "We  are  beaten  this  time,  but  we 
will  be  back  in  1873  not  as  prisoners  but  as  conquerors," 
which,  of  course,  we  Germans  had  a  notion  we  would  pre- 


108 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

vent.  I  wonder  if  he  is  alive  still  and  remembers  his 
proud  prophecy :  thirty-live  years  have  parsed  without  any 
such  visit.  May  the  Rhine  never  be  crossed  again  by  the 
armies  of  either,  for  peace  is  far  better  than  war. 

This  French  officer's  orderly  spoke  German  as  well  as 
I  did,  as  he  came  from  Alsace,  and  we  very  soon  became 
fast  friends. 

The  French  privates  also  had  a  very  good  time.  Once 
a  week  they  had  a  lager-beer  spree  in  a  clubroom  of  one 
of  the  hotels,  and  as  I  was  a  very  good  accordion-player 
my  Alsatian  friend  used  to  take  me  with  him.  I,  of  course, 
played  our  national  songs. 

The  Frenchmen  seemed  to  know  them,  and  even  sang 
them  too,  being  gay,  good-hearted  fellows. 

At  these  sprees  there  was  always  plenty  of  lager-beer 
flowing.  In  fact,  the  way  the  big  glasses  were  kept  going 
was  not  unlike  a  fire-brigade  at  work  with  their  buckets 
and  tank. 

On  one  oecasion  an  Italian  who  had  served  with  the 
French  was  one  of  the  carousers.  In  heat  of  temper  over 
something  he  called  me  "German  dog's  blood."  I  was  not 
slow  in  hurling  my  glass  of  lager  beer  at  his  head,  and  of 
course  there  was  at  once  hot  uproar;  but  he  was  put  out 
after  a  fierce  scuffle,  volubly  cursing  us  and  praying  to 
saints  and  angels  in  the  most  elegant  Italian. 

They  were  exciting  times,  i  think  there  was  hardly  any 
family  in  Germany  which  had  not  some  member  of  it 
actively  engaged  in  the  war.  One  day  a  young  lady  came 
to  our  place,  and  at  once  burst  out  crying.  She  had  a 
brother  in  one  of  the  armies  at  the  front,  and  had  just  re- 
ceived a  telegram  from  France  informing  her  that  her 
brother  had  been  killed  in  action.  Only  three  in  his  com- 
pany had  been  killed,  but  he  happened  to  be  one  of  the 
unlucky  ones. 


109 


CHAPTER  XX. 
love's  young  dream 

"There's  nought  but  care  on  every  han' 
In  every  hour  that  passes  O; 

What  signifies  the  life  o'  man, 
An'  'twere  na'  for  the  lasses  O? 


Gi'e  me  a  canny  hour  at  e'en. 
My  arms  about  my  dearie,  O; 

An'  warl'ly  cares  an'  warl'ly  men 
May  a'  gang  tapsalteerie,  O." — Bums. 

I  am  now  ooming  to  my  first  experiences  in  love.  I 
don't  think  I  eould  have  been  properly  vaccinated  against 
this  distressing  scourge,  for  I  had  it  very  badly  several 
times  and  have  never  been  able  to  shake  it  off  entirely; 
to  tell  the  truth  I  never  tried,  for  after  the  first  painful 
sensations  you  get  quite  used  to  it— as  you  do  to  your 
teeth,  your  new  boots,  your  pipe,  your  wife's  curl-papers 
and  hairpads  and  curtain  lectures,  and  similar  at  first  un- 
comfortable things.  In  fact,  though  a  German  to  the 
backbone,  I  don't  think  I  would  rather  have  even  lager- 
beer.  If  I  need  any  excuse  I  think  I  may  fairly  plead  that 
my  susceptibility  to  this  queer  malady  was  hereditary— as 
is  the  case  universally. 

But  I  must  tell  my  tale  in  my  own  round-about- way— 
like  an  old  man  or  woman  with  what  they  call  "rheu- 
matiz. ' ' 

First,  I  had  such  good  times  with  my  new  "boss"  .that 
I  grew  rapidly  and  bumped  things  once  well  overhead  con- 
siderably. I  was  in  fact,  very  soon  as  big  as  my  good  mas- 
ter, not  at  all  undersized,  and  very  strong  also.  I  could, 
and  did,  eat  like  a  "ploughman"- probably  Frau  Kichter 
and  her  young  and  pretty  cook  thought  I  ate  like  two 
ploughmen,  as  least  as  regards  quantity. 

110 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

For  instance,  one  cold  winter  morning  I  had  been  sent 
a  message,  there  and  back  making  a  walk  of  about  eight 
miles,  and  on  my  return  was  naturally  "as  hungry  as  a 
hunter."  I  found  dinner  just  over,  though  the  household 
had  not  risen  from  the  table— and  they  waited  with  good 
humored  curiosity  for  the  spectaoular  entertainment  I  was 
likely  to  provide,  for  I  was  notorious  as  an  eater.  It  was 
Saturday  and  the  dinner  just  a  plain  substantial  one,— 
stewed  plums  with  dumplings  as  large  as  would  fill  a  table 
spoon.  Our  charming  cook,  notwithstanding  the  state  of 
perpetual  guerilla  warfare  that  existed  between  us  for 
sundry  reasons,  (my  eating  capacity  being  one),  had  taken 
care  to  save  me  an  ample  supply.  I  sat  down  cheerfully 
and  resolutely  and  had  soon  demolished  the  whole  com- 
missariat before  me  which  included  twenty-one  of  those 
dumplings!  The  young  lady  of  the  kitehen,  who  was  al- 
ways "chaffing"  me  about  my  eating  so  much,  had  "with 
malice  prepense"  taken  the  precaution  to  count  them  be- 
forehand, and  as  soon  as  I  had  finished  she  poured  upon  me 
a  torrent  of  raillery  and  sarcastic  contumely,  pointing  her 
pretty  forefinger  accusingly  at  me  as  though  denouncing 
some  monster  of  iniquity  to  an  assembled  world.  It  was 
many  months  before  I  heard  the  last  of  it  from  her  pretty 
lips  but  terrible  tongue.  But  I  must  not  go  too  fast  and 
far  here. 

As  for  beer  (la.ger-beer)  we  had  as  much  as  hard-work- 
ing, healthly,  thirsty,  beer-loving  Germans  could  desire— 
which  is  saying  a  great  deal,  and  may  look  like  wild  exag- 
geration to  those  who  think  a  German's  beer  capacity  is 
equal  to  an  unlimited  supply,  or  even-  more.  The  simple 
fact  is  it  was  used  in  much  the  same  way  as,  only  even  more 
liberally  than,  tea  in  Australia  and  China,  and  with  less 
injurious  consequences.  Nobody  I  knew  was  in  the  habit 
of  drinking  water,  fond  as  we  were  of  it  to  bathe  and  s^vim 
in.  Beer  was  the  common  beverage,  and  a  splendid  one  it  is, 
refreshing,  stimulating,  healthy  and  non-intoxicating.^  We 
used  to  fetch  it  from  the  brewery  in  buckets,  at  abooit 
threepence  per  bucket,  and  bottle  it  ourselves. 

The  other  apprentice  and  I  always  had  a  few  bottles 
stowed  away  in  our  own  room— serving  both  as  a  "Current 

111 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

Account"  and  as  a  "Sinking  Fund."  Now  the  feminine 
mind  is  always  intensely  suspicious  and  liable  to  be  shocked 
at  the  contents  and  condition  of  bachelor  apartments,  and 
is  addicted  to  frequent  visits  of  inspection  and  destructive 
*' tidying."  Our  worthy  mistress  suffered  acutely  from 
this  ''meddling  and  muddling"  malady,  and  during  one  of 
the  attacks  found  about  half  a  dozen  snugly  planted  where 
no  man  or  boy  would  trouble  to  look— and  every  woman 
would. 

Instantly  (I  know  from  painful  experience  it  must  have 
been  instantly)  the  whole  house  and  everyone  therein, 
were  startled  out  of  our  wits  and  skins  and  the  proverbial 
seven  years 's  growth  by  ear-piercing  cries  from  the  upper 
regions.  We  dropped,  afraid  the  house  was  on  fire  or  that 
murder  was  on  foot— or  something. 

When  .we  reached  the  foot  of  the  last  flight  there  at  the 
top  was  that  most  womanlike  Frau  Richter,  and  as  her  hus- 
baad  came  to  her  sight  she  greeted  him  sharply  with, 
**Now  look,  Wilhelm,  here  are  the  boys  with  all  the  beer 
upstairs,  and  we  have  hardly  any  down  below!"  (Did  you 
ever  know  a  woman  who  would  take  the  trouble  to  come 
and  tell  you  anything  if  she  could  only  make  you  go  to 
her— no  matter  what  trouble  it  put  you  to?— and  you've 
**got  to  go"  ''quick  and  lively"  too.)  And  as  he  reached 
the  smugglers'  den  she  impressively  displayed  her  capture. 

Did  he  break  into  thunder  and  lightning  at  us,  or  her? 
Not  a  bit  of  it.  "Oh,"  he  coolly  said,  "you  have  always 
some  fault  to  find  with  the  boys:  I  was  a  boy  myself  and 
was  not  a  whit  better."     Wasn't  he  a  jolly  good  fellow? 

My  mate's  father  had  a  dairy  at  Schulterblatt,  about 
three  miles  away.  We  used  to  visit  him  one  evening  every 
week  and  have  a  rattling  good  time — details  unnecessary. 
On  leaving,  he  loaded  us  to  breaking  down  point  with 
cream-cheese  sufficient  till  next  week's  visit— if  anything, 
more. 

Now,  what  on  earth  is  the  bearing  of  all  this  upon  the 
scheduled  subject  of  this  chapter,  "love"?  Well,  it  affords 
very  good  reasons  for  my  rapid  promotion  from  under- 
sized l)oyhood  to  sturdy  young  manhood,  and  as  a  corollary 

112 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

that  I  was  becoming  eligible  as  lawful  prey  for  the  fair 
sex. 

During  my  Sunday  afternoon  rajnbles  and  on  other  oc- 
casions when  out  I  began  to  take  a  deeply  artistic  inter- 
est in  drapery  and  millinery  and  stylish  boots— if  they 
happened  to  be  well  set-off  on  a  suitable  figure  and  face; 
and  sometimes  the  compliment  was  returned.  Now  and 
again  I  tasted  the  strange  delights  of  a  mild  flirtation  in 
the  streets  or  parks,  and  on  a  few  occasions  perhaps  sam- 
pled young  feminine  lips— and  waists. 

But  there  was  one  dear  girl  for  whom  I  felt  a  strong  pref- 
erence and  far  purer  affection— an  affection  that  in  great 
degree  partook  of  the  nature  of  a  brotherly  protectiveness ; 
for  we  had  almost  grown  up  together.  She  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  widow  who  lived  next  door  to  my  mother  and 
stepfather.  She  was  now  a  fine  young  woman,  not  per- 
haps such  a  paragon  of  loveliness  as  the  typical  heroine 
of  a  novel— I  have  never  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet, 
much  less  make  the  acquaintance  of,  any  such  heavenly 
being— but  nevertheless  she  was  a  high-grade  exhibit,—  tall 
erect  and  well-formed,  a  straight-back,  small  waist  and 
beautifully  rounded  bust,  a  proud  little  head  from  which 
lovely  black  hair  fell  in  natural  ringlets  about  her  shoul- 
ders. Then  she  had  a  nice  shaped  forehead  and  arched 
eyebrows,  and  lovely  black  eyes  softened  with  long  lasihes, 
those  wonderful  eyes  having  a  longing,  langourous  tender- 
ness on  them  which  was  all-conquering  where  a  man 's  heart 
was  concerned;  no  wonder  a  susceptible  young  connoisseur 
like  myself  was  enslaved.  The  one  defect  was  her  mouth, 
for  the  teeth  were  not  as  regular  as  ideal  beauty  requires, 
so  that  when  speaking  or  smiling  she  was  not  at  her  best, 
l^his,  of  course,  was  a  grievoois  disadvantage  for  a  lady, 
for,  as  everybody  knows,  women's  mouths  are  the  safety 
valves  of  these  high-pressure  little  engines. 

Perhaps  a  consciousness  of  this  drawback  may  have 
made  her  less  vivacious  than  she  might  otherwise  have  been, 
for  she  was  very  quiet,  though  this  may  have  been  a  nat- 
ural reserve  and  maidenly  modesty.  "Whatever  it  was  it 
served  to  keep  me  at  arm's  length,  although  we  had  been 

113 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

for  so  long  neighbours  and  playmates— for  notwithstand- 
ing my  free  and  easy  infatuations  at  this  period  of  my 
life,  I  was  naturally  very  bashful  in  ladies'  company. 
This  was  probably  because  having  no  sisters  of  my  own  I 
had  not  acquired  that  lordly  sense  of  masculine  superiority 
—that  self-sufficient,  if  loving,  contempt  for  the  weaker  six 
—which  is  engendered  by  their  constant  society  (I  am 
thankful  I  am  out  of  range  of  your  tongues  and  hands, 
Lady  Readers). 

During  a  few  happy  years  her  mother's  house  was  al- 
most like  a  home  to  me.  They  had  removed  from  next 
door  to  my  stepfather's  (where  the  actor  had  been  dis- 
covered in  the  chimney)  and  were  now  living  in  one  of  a 
row  of  new  two-story  brick  cottages  which  had  been  built 
on  the  spot  where  had  once  stood  the  old  straw-hatched 
farmhouse  which  was  the  scene  of  that  terribly  tragic 
fire  described  in  an  early  chapter.  They  were  plain-front- 
ed cottages  facing  west  with  front  gardens  of  about  six- 
teen feet  depth  containing  the  usual  old-fashioned  flowers, 
and  these  gardens  shut  off  from  the  world  by  common  white 
picket  fences. 

Every  Sunday  afternoon  and  evening  and  at  least  one  or 
two  evenings  in  the  iweek  I  found  my  way  there,— from 
Hamburg  and  through  Altona — and  what  delighted  hours 
I  spent  there !  But  though  I  daresay  it  was  quite  un- 
derstood all  round  that  my  principaL  attraction  was  to  see 
the  daughter,  Elizabeth,  my  ostensible  motive  was  my  close 
friendship  with  her  brother  Albrecht.  For  a  long  time 
this  fact  afforded  convenient  cover  to  my  bashful  ecstacy 
in  the  privilege  of  merely  basking  in  the  pleasant  sunshine 
of  her  presence ;  and  while  superficially  engrossed  with  Al- 
brecht over  a  game  of  chess  or  some  other  matter  of  com- 
mon interest  to  us  two,  I  would  furtively  steal  a  glance  of 
adoration  at  my  goddess;  of  which,  and  of  several  and 
divers  other  sypmtoms  of  my  thraldom,  I  have  not  the 
slightest  doubt  she  was  most  fully  conscious,  although  she 
did  so  calmly  and  demurely  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  her 
needlework  or  whatever  else  she  happened  to  be  apparent- 
ly occupied  with. 

114 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

But  as  weather  varies,  so  did  our  intercourse.  Even 
wihen  for  a  time  there  might  be  some  ice  of  restraint,  it 
nearly  always  very  soon  thawed  under  the  genial  influence 
of  dominoes,  or  whist,  or  music;  for  Elsbeth  sang  well  and 
was  an  accomplished  pianist— a  very  rare  thing  at  that 
time,  but  she  had  received  a  first-rate  education  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  rich  elderly  couple  who  took  a  deep  interest  in 
her.  In  fact,  there  were  those  who  said  that  she  was  rather 
closely  related  to  the  old  gentleman.  Often  we  would  join 
in  singing  some  of  the  sweet  "chorales"  or  glees  of  our 
music-loving  fatherland— such  as  "Lorelei,"  ''Lider  Ohne 
Worte,"  "Andreas  Hofer,"  "The  Last  Rose  of  Summer," 
and  others. 

The  piano  was,  however,  one  of  the  old  style,  low  and 
square  like  a  large  table  top.  Its  tone  was  not  equal  to 
those  of  modern  construction,  but  to  us  it  was  sufficient. 

Their  living  room  was  upstairs,  its  two  windows  facing 
the  sunset,  and  often  when  the  "Goldene  Abendsonne"  of 
my  childhood's  song  was  casting  its  "glorious  rays"  over 
distant  tree  and  housetops  and  filling  the  sky  with  match- 
less miracles  of  color,  Elsbeth  and  I  would  stand  or  sit  by 
one  of  those  windows,  revelling  (at  least  I  did)  in  the  fas- 
cination of  the  moment  and  looking  with  romantic  antici- 
pations to  the  future.  We  may  not  have  said  very  much ; 
but  we  felt,  and  looked,  and  perhaps  occasionally  sighed 
our  thoughts,  and  we  toyed  with  the  pot-plants  on  the 
window-sill,  and  what  a  delicious  thrill  shot  through  me 
when  perchance  hand  touched  hand — and  sometimes  lin- 
gered in  quite  unnecessary  and  excuseless,  but  neverthe- 
less resistless,  mutual  clasp!  But  such  things  don't  bear 
talking  about  to  all  the  world ;  they  are  the  secrets  of  coy 
youth,  fitting  only  for  the  one  sympathetic  little  rosy  ear  at 
a  time  and  then  only  under  favoring  conditions.  I  could 
not  utter  them  only  from  behind  the  shelter  of  my  book; 
paper  you  know  is  such  a  secret-filching  "confidante.'* 
Then,  on  a  fine  Sunday  afternoon,  or  sometimes  in  the  soft 
twilight,  or  when  a  radiant  moon  shone  overhead,  we  would 
all  stroll  to  the  lake  or  the  river,  where  ships  and  small 
boats  glided  to  and  fro  or  down  some  pleasant  country 

116 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

road  where  wild  flowers  abounded  and  cottage  gardens  filled 
the  air  with  fragrance.  Oh,  but  we  did  a  host  of  pleasant 
things  that  I  can  give  you  little  idea  of;  it  is  enough  to 
say  that  three  of  us  at  least  were  young;  and  to  us  all  the 
world  was  young  and  bright  and  fresh;  and  the  warm 
vigorous  blood  thrilled  our  veins  and  made  our  feet  tire 
less ;  and  our  lungs  dfew  deep  draughts  of  invigorating  air, 
and  our  mouths  deep  draughts  of  lager-beer  or  cider  or 
anything  of  that  sort;  and— well  it  was  simply  a  golden 
glorious  time  altogether.  You,  Reader,  know  or  have 
known  the  same  sort  of  things.  Oh,  for  those  happy  days 
again ! 

Where  am  II  In  my  tale,  I  mean.  This  chapter  was 
supposed  to  be  about  love,  and  I  have  hardly  begun  on  the 
topic  and  here  we  are  with  a  chapter  already  long  enough 
for  at  least  two  well-behaved  ones.  But  who  could  pack 
a  love  tale  worth  calling  such  into  one  little  chapter  ?  Most 
of  you  have  it  spread  out  over  a  thick  volume  or  so,  and 
then  only  one  love  affair,  whereas  I  must  blushingly  (or 
unblushingly )  as  may  appear,  confess  to  several.  "Cour- 
age, then,"  my  vagrant  pen,"  we  will  "carry  forward" 
our  "balance  in  hand"  as  the  matter  of  fact  book-keeping 
tribe  puts  it. 


116 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FROM  WHICH  POINT  OF  VIEWf 

"For  ye  sae  donee,  ye  sneer  at  this, 
Ye're  nought  but  senseless  asses,  O; 
The  wisest  mon  the  warl'  e'er  saw,. 
He  dearly  lo'ed  the  lassies,  O." — Burns. 

The  above  quotation  mayhap  looks  suggestive  of  more 
than  appears  on  the  surface  and  more  serious  than  its 
rollicking  lilt.  Now,  I  am  not  going  to  say  it  is  not;  but 
there  is  more  than  one  brand  of  seriousness,  and  I  trust 
you  will  give  me  credit  for  some  of  the  higher  grade  varie- 
ties. Eemember,  please,  I  am  writing  a  truthful  history 
of  my  life,  keeping  to  actual  facts,  veiling  only  where 
that  is  necessary  for  some  good  purpose. 

The  young  lady  of  the  last  chapter,  Elsbeth  Baensch, 
was  my  first  sweetheart  worth  mentioning— (for  I  don't 
think  the  short-frocked  ones  when  I  was  a  mere  boy  ought 
to  count)  and  I  resolved  that  she  was  the  only  woman 
in  the  world  for  me,  and  that  as  soon  as  I  was  in  a  po- 
sition to  do  so  I  would  marry  her,  if  she  would  have  me. 

This  programme  had  nothing  particularly  wrong  with  it 
except  my  not  having  been  inoculated  against  love  alto- 
gether— and  love  complications. 

Now  we  are  all  scientists  now-a-days,  or  we  think  we 
are,  which  serves  most  practical  purposes— #o  a  great  ex- 
tent. So  well  follow  the  literary  fashion  and  indulge  in 
a  little  reasoning,  or  logic,  or  deductions,  or  whatever  you 
call  it,  of  the  usual  brew;  and  if  you  cannot  distinguish 
it  from  foolery  I  shall  take  it  as  a  compliment  to  my  faith- 
fulness to  the  model,  and  shall  have  much  hopes  of  you. 

117 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

All  will  admit  that  there  is  considerable  affinity  be- 
tween, say,  a  dog  and  a  leg  of  mutton,  and  ''that  being 
so"  it  is  unwise  to  leave  them  alone  together,  for  the  af- 
finity will  naturally  result  in  assimilation.  Again,  take 
the  case  of  a  hoy  and  an  apple;  the  affinity  may  not  at 
first  be  so  apparent,  but  as  there  is  no  doubt  about  the 
assimilation,  does  not  the  fact  of  that  assimilaltion  estab- 
lish the  fact  of  actual  affinity?  With  few  exceptions  it 
matters  not  who  is  the  boy  and  which  is  the  apple,  the  es- 
sential affinity  is  there,  and  that  affinity  being  the  same 
in  all  such  cases,  "like  causes  will  produce  like  effects." 
In  other  wordis,  a  boy  naturally  takes  to  and  eats  any  good 
apple.  In  like  manner  it  may  be  demonstrated  tiiat  if 
there  is  an  affinity  between  a  boy  (or  youth)  and  an  at- 
tractive girl  there  is  also  more  or  less  of  the  same  af- 
finity between  that  youth  and  any  attractive  girl.  Where^ 
fore  lite  causes  producing  like  effects,  a  boy  is  liable  to  fall 
in  love  with  any  such  attractive  girl.  "Quod  erat  demon- 
strandum." I  am  afraid  there  is  something  missing,  but 
I  can't  stay  to  make  it  good;  the  essential  points  are  here 
at  all  events. 

From  all  which  you  will  no  doubt  guess  that  I  have 
something  in  the  nature  of  painful  news  to  gently  break 
to  you — something  to  do  with  a  rival  girl  and  inconstancy 
on  my  part  and  unutterable  love  woes  and  all  sorts  of  dis- 
asters.    So  it  was. 

Yet  it  all  came  about  in  a  simple  enough  way.  I  dare- 
say you  noticed  suspiciously  my  reference  not  long  ago 
to  a  pretty  young  cook  who  daily  ministered  to  the  table 
requirements  of  Herr  Richter's  household?  Well,  I  must 
now  introduce  you  to  her  Most  Excellent  Majesty. 

She  was  an  exceedingly  attractive  young  woman  of  about 
twenty-five,  fairly  tall,  of  graceful  figure,  fresh  complex- 
ion, and  dark  hair  and  eyes.  Then  her  dainty  print-gowns 
and  white  aprons  and  linen  details,  and  coquettish  bits  of 
gay  ribbon— for  she  never  forgot  her  feminine  duty  to 
look  "nice" — always  reminded  you  of  country  fliOwers  and 
orchard  blossom  or  fruit  of  some  sort;  and  as,  besides,  she 
was  a  smiling,  roguish,  rather  "peppery,"  and  altogether 

118 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

tantalizing  daughter  of  Eve,  you  couldn't  expect  two 
sprightly  apprentice  boys  and  a  young  journeyman  meet- 
ing her  daily  (and  many  times  a  day)  to  be  guilty  of  quite 
the  same  degree  of  respectful  indifference  which  would  be 
natural  enough  towards  a  prim  old-maid  great-aunt !  Why, 
it  would  have  been  a  gross  affront  to  any  self-respecting 
young  lady;  even  Juno  the  Queen  of  Heaven  herself  (vide 
Vergil)  entirely  lost  her  temper  because  of  ''her  slighted 
beauty's  wrong,"  and  so  would  our  Juno  of  the  kitchen 
have  done,  no  doubt.  You  might  just  as  well  expect- one 
of  her  own  best  apple-tarts  to  be  left  severely  alone. 

You  simply  couldn't  do  it.  True,  you  might  not  have 
an  eye  to  serious  business  nor  even  to  an  orthodox  flirta- 
tion or  anything  of  that  sort;  but  how  could  any  male  mor- 
tal with  a  complete  outfit  of  senses  find  himself  within 
arm's  length  of  her — or  speech  length  for  that  matter 
v'ithout  his  inmost  soul  boiling  over  with  gallantries  and 
playiul  teasing,  without  an  irregular  warfare  of  little  ag- 
gravating tricks  and  deprisals  unnecessary  to  detail,  and 
now  and  again  a  bit  of  mild  romping,  lip-piracy,  and  re- 
taliatory ear-boxingis  by  the  lady. 

Things  had  been  going  on  for  many  months  pretty  much 
as  I  have  already  indicated  in  these  last  two  chapters,  and 
I  was  now  very  nearly  nineteen  years  of  age.  I  came  home 
one  evening  at  about  eleven  o'clock  and  found  that  fasci- 
nating enemy  of  mine  standing  at  the  door  chatting  with 
another  servant  girl  from  over  the  road.  We  exchanged  a 
few  bantering  but  innocent  words  on  the  usual  topics,  then 
as  all  the  other  inmates  of  our  house  had  gone  to  bed  our 
young  cook  and  I  went  inside,  and  after  securing  the  door 
we  went  upvstairs.  That  is,  we  went  up  the  first  flight,  and 
1  ought  to  have  gone  up  two  flights  more.  But  on  reach- 
in  o:  the  first  landing,  on  which  floor  her  room  was  situated, 
hhe  whispered  softly,  ''Come  into  my  room  for  a  few  min- 
utes and  we  can  have  a  bit  of  yarning.  Such  an  invitation 
was  naturally  too  agreeable  to  be  resisted ;  all  over  the  world 
do  not  youths  and  maidens  delight  in  opportunities  for 
those  soft  secret-confidences  and  love-making?     So  we  both 


119 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

entered  and  to  guard  against  uninvited  visitors  my  hostess 
locked  the  door. 

But  such  cosy  little  tete-a-tetes  are  not  easy  to  break  off. 
Of  course,  you  don 't  sit  at  a  conventionally  formal  distance 
to  start  with.  On  the  contrary,  though  you,  the  * '  he, "  may 
hesitate  to  seem  too  presumptuous,  she  graciously  invites 
you  to  sit  pleasantly  near;  then  (if  you  are  not  long  ac- 
quainted)  the  gentleman's  arm  little  by  little  but  inevit- 


ably finds  its  way  round  the  lady's  waist  and  before  long 
her  head  is  on  his  shoulder  (with  a  little  gentle  coaxing) 
and  then  the  conversation  becomes  intensely  interesting— 
so  much  so  that  time  flies  too  fast  and  it  becomes  hard  to 
tear  yourself  away;  you  procrastinate  for  ''just  one  min- 
ute longer,"  but  the  parting  is  no  easier  at  the  end  of  that 
minute,  nor  after  ten  minutes,  and  if  there  is  no  angry 
father 's  boot  or  something  of  that  sort  to  make  you  go,  you 
linger  on  in  blissful  ignorance  of  or  indifference  to  time  for 


120 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

goodness  and  all  knows  how  long.  This,  I  believe,  is  a 
very  commonplace  experience,  and  it  is  a  sufficiently  accur- 
ate one  of  mine  on  the  occasion  referred  to ;  for  it  was  not 
until  we  were  startled  by  the  baker's  knock  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning  that  I  could  summon  up  resolution  to  take 
my  departure.  Then  with  a  parting  civility  I  had  to  go  and 
slipped  quietly  up  the  remaining  two  flights  of  stairs  to  my 
room,  where  I  found  my  mate  snoring  profoundly  and  quite 
ignorant  of  my  absence. 

From  that  time  the  previously  exsisting  guerilla  warfare 
between  that  charming  young  cook  and  myself  gave  place 
to  a  better  understanding,  and  many  a  delightful  hour  we 
spent  in  each  other's  company  after/wards— theoretically 
''yarning." 

This  apple  from  the  forbidden  tree,  delicious  to  the  taste 
as  it  was,  seemed  to  have  as  strange  an  influence  upon  my 
vision  and  upon  hitherto  unknown  nerve-chords  as  that 
grotesquely  commonplace  vegetable  practical-joker  the  on- 
ion had  on  baser  nerves  in  more  innocent  days..  From  the 
moment  of  my  first  taste  of  the  intoxicating  fruit  the  world 
became  a  new  place  to  me— a  Paradise  of  sensuous  delights. 
It  was  like  the  change  from  a  cool  fresh  grey  dawn  to  the 
color-glory  of  a  bright  sunrise— the  sunrise  of  manhood — 
casting  a  rich  glamor  even  on  things  in  themselves  without 
real  beauty— and  like  the  bright  tints  of  sunrise,  the  en- 
chantment soon  passed  away,  leaving  only  the  hard  matter- 
of-fact  lights  and  shades  of  broad  day— the  unveiled  ugli- 
ness of  many  things  iwhich  at  first  appear  objects  of  beauty. 
Such  was  the  knowledge  of  good  and  of  evil  which  I 
obtained. 

That  first. apple  of  love  created  a  thirst,  a  raging  fever, 
a  love  drunken  delirium  that  was  not  content  with  a  tree- 
full  all  to  myself,  but  made  me  covet  whole  orchards  of 
them.  I  fell  in  love  with  every  girl  I  saw,  flirted  with  as 
many  as  I  could,  and  'would  have  married  almost  any  girl 
if  any  had  been  willing  to  accept  a  mere  apprentice  with 
nothing  per  week  to  keep  house  on.  After  all,  it  was  only 
a  rightful  natural  craving  such  as  every  healthy  young 
man  is  liable  to;  only  some  are  more  ravenous,  gluttonous 

121 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

if  you  like,  than  others.  I  must  confess  that  I  was  no  more 
temperate  in  this  respect  than  I  had  been  with  the  stewed 
plums  and  dumplings  at  the  dinner  table.  I  may  have  been 
worthy  of  blame  in  both  these  matters,  but  who  shall  judge 
if  he  is  but  a  jweakly  dyspeptic  ? 


122 


OF  THE  ' 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

SUPERNATURAL    INCIDENT. 

Just  by  way  of  a  break  in  the  narration  of  my  love 
affairs  I  sandwieh.  in  here  a  very  strange  experience  which 
befell  one  of  the  two  journeymen  at  that  time  working  at 
our  place,  and  I  solemnly  assure  my  readers  that  my  state- 
ment below  is  strictly  accurate. 

One  morning  one  of  these  journeymen  on  coming  into 
the  workroom  informed  us  that  he  had  had  a  terrible  ex- 
perience the  night  before,  after  going  to  bed.  He  had  left 
his  bedroom  door  ajar  and  the  moon  was  shining  through 
the  window.  He  had  been  in  bed  about  half  an  hour,  when 
the  figure  of  a  young  woman  glided  through  the  doorway 
and  advanced  very  slowly  towards  him  as  he  lay  in  bed, 
and  on  reaching  the  bedside  the  figure  bowed  or  bent  slowly 
over  him,  then  turned  round  and  glided  noiselessly  out  of 
the  room  again.  He  told  us  that  he  lay  all  the  time  totally 
helpless,  unable  to  either  stir  or  speak,  and  that  when  the 
figure  or  vision  had  disappeared  he  was  "in  a  lather  of 
perspiration. ' '  He  also  told  us  that  he  iwould  not  willingly 
go  through  another  experience  of  that  kind  for  anything. 
He  said  also  that  he  could  take  an  oath  that  he  was  wide 
awake  at  the  time. 

I  am  certain  from  his  manner  that  he  told  only  what  he 
firmly  believed  to  be  true. 

A  week  afterwards  he  met  in  the  street  a  woman  who  was 
an  acquaintance  of  his.  She  told  him  that  on  the  very  even- 
ing when  he  saw  that  apparition  an  old  aweetheart  of  his 
whom  he  had  not  seen  for  twelve  years  had  died. 


123 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

I  may  say  that  I  have  not  the  faintest  doubt  as  to  the 
absolute  reliability  of  what  is.  stated  above.  You  will  re- 
member my  own  personal  experience  of  a  similar  char- 
acter; strange  things  most \  undoubtedly  happen. 

Shortly  afterwards,  as  you  will  find,  this  journeyman 
and  I  became  close  friends  and  companions,  and  though 
he  did  not  take  me  into  full  confidence  as  regards  his  re- 
lations with  the  young  woman  mentioned  in  this  anecdote, 
I  remember  there  were  rumors  and  sucpicions  that  he  had 
jilted  or  betrayed  her;  and  I  must  candidly  say  from  my 
knowledge  of  him  that  I  fear  that  was  very  likely  the  fact. 
If  so,  the  terrible  impression  produced  by  this  alarming  ex- 
perience of  his  can  be  more  fully  realized. 


124 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A    SAILOR    BOY— REPENTS    IN    TIME. 

I  give  here  another  anecdote  of  my  apprenticeship  days, 
although  it  breaks  the  thread  of  my  love-tale. 

One  day  Herr  Richter  received  a  letter  from  a  friend  of 
his  living  in  Silesia.  It  requested  Mr.  Richter  to  try  to 
find  employment  on  a  sailing  ship  or  ships  for  two  boys,  one 
a  son  of  the  writer  and  the  other  a  friend.  These  boys 
knew  as  much  about  ships  as  they  did  about  King  Solomon, 
for  they  had  seen  neither  except  in  picture  books,  living  as 
they  did  a  hundred  miles  inland  from  the  nearest  salt 
water. 

But  somehow  or  other— probably  from  books,  or  some 
strolling  actor  of  Miaddler's  type,  or  from  some  wandering 
sailor— they  had  got  infected  with  the  sea- faring  craze- 
thought  most  likely  they  iwere  cut  out  to  be  pirate  captains 
or  some  other  stamp  of  breezy  heroes.  Anyhow,  in  due 
course  they  both  landed  at  our  place  provided  with  money 
for  a  rig-out  in  the  most  approved  style,  and  with  numerous 
unsuitable  adjuncts  supplied  by  their  female  relatives.  The 
**boss"  found  each  a  ship  and  one  of  them  duly  sailed  and 
we  lost  the  run  of  him.  The  other,  after  a  week  on  board 
in  harbor,  came  to  our  shop  blubbering  (not  exactly  like 
a  girl— for  they  do  it  more  gracefully)  and  told  Herr  Rich- 
ter that  he  had  had  quite  enough  already ;  from  the  skipper 
downwards  they  had  talked  to  him  in  the  naughtiest  nau- 
tical language  about  his  lubberliness  and  other  things  and 
had  promised  him  ** jolly  good  hidings"  with  a  rope's-end 

325 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

as  soon  as  they  had  him  well  out  to  sea— aiway  from  law 
sharks  and  landlubberly  courts  of  justice. 

So  our  good-natured  ''boss"  said  to  me,  "You  had  bet- 
ter go  and  see  if  you  can  get  him  off  again."  The  boy  and 
I  went  to  the  river  and  I  engaged  a  boatman  to  row  me 
to  the  ship,  which  was  lying  in  mid-stream  ready  to  clear. 
When  I  went  on  board,  (alone),  I  saw  the  mate,  and  per- 
ceiving no  other  promising  diplomacy,  I  tried  to  work  off 
on  him  a  very  wide  variation  from  the  truth,  my  represen- 
tation being  that  the  boy  iwas  taken  by  some  desperate  ill- 
ness and  could  not  go  to  sea.  The  mate  gave  an  attentive 
ear,  but  a  still  more  attentive  eye— the  steady  searching 
gaze  of  a  blue  sailory  eye— accustomed  to  seeing  through 
blinding  rain  and  stormy  darkness— and  coolly  turning  the 
quid  he  iwas  chewing,  he  remarked,  *'0h,  yes,  we  know  the 

illness  he  has  got,  he  got  a fright;  but  anyhow  if  you 

can  get  us  another  youngster  by  three  o'clock  this  after- 
noon you  may  have  this  lout's  clothes  and  bedding."  To 
shorten  the  story,  we,  in  consideration  for  a  good  ''tip," 
procured  another  boy  through  a  shipping  agent  and  I  deliv- 
ered him  to  the  untender  mercies  of  the  mate  and  the  other 
salt-junk  people,  while  my  salvage's  sea-chest  and  bedding 
were  transhipped  to  our  little  craft  with  such  off-handed- 
ness  and  precipitation  as  to  very  nearly  capsize  us. 


126 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A    ROLLICKING    TIME. 

"The  worl'ly  race  may  riches  chase, 
And  riches  still  may  fly  them,  O; 

And  though  at  last  they  catch  them  fast, 
Their  hearts  can  ne'er  enjoy  them,  O." — Bums. 

I  am  not  going  to  necessarily  endorse  the  last  sentiment, 
but  the  whole  verse  is  not  a  bad  text  for  this  chapter : 

Soon  after  I  was  nineteen  my  apprenticeship  terminated 
and  I  became  a  certificated  mechanic.  If  four  years  ear- 
lier I  had  rejoiced  at  leaving  school  and  my  stepmother,  I 
was  yet  more  elated  now  at  my  emancipation  from  all  con- 
trol (notwithstanding  my  excellent  treatment  at  Herr  Rich- 
ter's,)  and  the  prospect  of  entire  independence  and  plenty 
of  money  and  indulgence — no  more  stringent  rules  about 
being  home  at  10  p.  m.,  for  instance. 

The  journeyman  who  had  nursed  me  through  my  attack 
of  small-pox  was  now  working  in  a  sewing  machine  factory, 
and  soon  got  me  a  position  there,  too.  He  and  I  were  now  on 
an  equal  footing,  and  he  being  a  young  man  we  soon  be- 
came fast  friends — and  accomplices  in  a  good  many  frol- 
icsome enterprises. 

Tfie  first  Saturday  after  my  getting  this  employment  was 
one  of  the  red-letter  days  of  my  life,  because  pay-day  I  re- 
ceived my  first  week's  earnings,  about  25s,  which  is  every 
bit  as  good  as  50s  here.  To  me  that  twenty-five  shillings 
seemed  almost  fabulous  (wealth,  accustomed  as  I  was  to 
nearly  nothing  at  all. 

The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  worthily  sustain  my  new 
dignity  by  turning  over  a  fresh  IqbI— outwardly.    So  in 

127 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

very  little  time  I  was  re-rig@ed  in  a  new  stylish  suit  with 
bell-topper  hat,  patent  leather  boots,  kid-gloves,  linen  and 
tie  to  match,  and  as  a  necessary  finishing  touch  a  dandy 
walking-stick.  It  was  like  the  transformation  of  a  trading- 
brig  into  a  smart  schooner-yacht.  You  doubt  my  25s  doing 
all  this?  Quite  right;  it  was  partly  my  newly  acquired 
credit,  through  my  friend's  agency. 

Naturally,  I  had  that  night  in  the  privacy  of  my  own 
room  a  f uH  dress  rehearsal,  to  the  last  button  and  crease, 
even  to  the  stick— practiced  raising  my  hat  and  bowing 
in  courtly  style  to  ladies,  tenderly  twirled  and  preened  my 
future  moustache,  and  went  through  a  host  of  other  evolu- 
tions and  antics,  such  as  I  had  seen  fashionable  young 
bloods  affect. 

Next  day,  Sunday,  I,  of  course,  set  out  to  visit  my  sweet- 
heart, Elsbeth  Baensch,  and  her  mother  and  brother,  and 
on  this  occasion  took  the  bus. 

You  may  easily  guess  my  inward  distension  and  my  ex- 
aggerated nonchalance  as  I  approached  their  garden  gate 
and  walked  up  the  short  path  to  the  door.  You  may  picture 
my  restless  affectations  with  moustache  and  cane  and  nose- 
gay in  my  buttonhole ;  and  as  to  my  reception,  I  think  you 
can  more  easily  imagine  than  I  can  describe  it.  It  is  sub- 
fieient  to  say  that  it  was  plain  I  had  risen  fully  100  per  cent, 
in  their  estimation,  and  ere  long  we  were  all  out  touring 
the  vicinity  something  like  a  newly  arrived  circus.  Then 
the  delight  of  **  doing  the  graQd"  in  paying  for  mild  dis- 
sipations—*' standing  treat''  as  they  say  now.  I  am  sure  my 
market  value  rose  with  a  bound  once  more— very  much  like 
a  '*  Jack  in  the  box"— I  came  up  with  a  click. 

I  had  always  thought  that  when  I  was  earning  wages  as 
a  journeyman  I  would  save  a  lot ;  but  when  the  time  came, 
somehow  it  all  went— went  like  water  through  a  sieve.  This 
is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at  when  you  remember  my  ear- 
lier days,— no  money,  no  freedom,  very  little  steadying  in- 
fluence such  as  a  home  circle  provides;  and  here  I  was 
thrown  into  the  constant  society  of  at  least  half  a  hundred 
other  young  men,  mostly  careless  wild  spirits— and  in  a  gay 
city  like  Hamburg,— full  of  music  halls,  theatres,  beer-gar- 

128 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

dens,  and  every  variety  of  temptation  and  trap.  Is  it, 
then,  any  wonder  that  I  ''kicked  over  the  traces,"  as  the 
saying  goes?  Moreover,  I  was  soon  earning  up  to  40s  per 
week,  as  I  iwas  at  piece  work,  and  was  very  quick.  This 
increased  income,  of  course,  added  to  my  self -indulging  ca- 
pacity. So  for  a  few  years  I  spent  a  happy-go-lucky  life; 
and  I  must  say  it  was  a  rollicking  and  seemed  a  thoroughly 
glorious  time.  I  cannot,  of  course,  take  you  into  all  the 
highways  and  byways  of  it ;  neither  space  nor  other  consid- 
erations would  allow.  I  need  only  say  that  like  the  prod- 
igal of  scripture  I  wasted  my  substance  with  riotous  living. 
Doubtless  some  of  you  frown  disapprovingly.  Now  1 
don 't  want  to  sail  under  false  colors — to  hypocritically  pose 
as  one  of  the  repentant  and  something  of  a  moralist.  I 
would  rather  be  manfully  candid  and  say  that  while  there 
may  be  things  I  sincerely  reg^^et  and  would  wish  undone, 
I  think  that  collectively  regarded,  my  life  at  this  time  was 
no  worse  than  natural  and  very  common,  almost  universal, 
and  that  in  so  far  as  you  may  deem  it  wrong  I  may  right- 
fully ask  you  to  follow  your  master 's  example  in  such  cases, 
and  especially  not  to  forget  that  "charity"  he  inculated — 
taking  your  view  of  facts,  which  do  I  most  deserve  under 
my  circumstances,  blame  or  pity?  If  your  judgment  says 
*' blame,"  look  keenly  at  your  own  past  before  you  cast 
your  stone  at  me. 


129 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

**THE    COUESB   OF    TRUE   LOVE.*' 

The  principals  of  the  firm  for  which  I  was  working  once 
a  year  gave  a  ball  to  their  employes.  Three  weeks  be- 
fore the  time  it  was  due  I  invited  my  "b€st  girl,"  Elsbeth, 
to  go  as  my  partner.  Neither  of  ns  had  ever  been  at  a 
ball,  and  she,  as  well  as  I,  was  in  high  glee  with  anticipation 
of  the  pleasure.  From  her  brother  I  learned  that  great 
preparations  were  being  made  for  the  event— (he  show- 
ing in  manner  and  words  a  proper  brotherly  disrespect  to- 
wards the  said  preparations). 

This  disclosure  of  state  secrets  put  me  on  my  mettle ;  as 
the  escort  of  such  beauty  and  finery  I  must  not  be  personal- 
ly a  discredit  to  it.  So  I  had  to  negotiate  \with  my  tailor  for 
an  evening  dress  suit,  the  coat,  of  course,  having  the  regula- 
tion long  swallow  tail.  This  was  not  a  cash  transaction,  for 
I  had  got  beyond  that  stage,  and  in  fact,  by  Monday  morn- 
ings could  never  muster  five  shillings;  most  of  my  wages 
were  invariably  banked  where  there  was  no  chance  of  ever 
withdrawing  the  money  again. 

"When  the  evening  came,  as  no  dress  suit,  etcetera,  could 
be  expected  to  walk  from  Hamburg  to  Ottensen,  and  as  it 
was  also  necessary  to  have  a  conveyance  for  the  new  drap- 
ery and  its  contents,  and  for  other  reasons  good  and  mildly 
bad  (that  should  be  transparent  enough)  I  drove  out  in  a 
hansom  cab,  where  once  upon  a  time  I  had  run  barefoot  in 
a  most  primitive  bathing  suit. 

After  waiting  a  short  time  (I  call  it  short  in  courtesy  to 


130 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

the  lady)  in  the  upstairs  parlor,  a  lovely  rose-tinted  cloud 
set  with  sparkling  stars  (this,  at  least,  was  my  first  momen- 
tary impression)  with  an  angel  half  emerging  from  it  swept 
with  some  evidences  of  agitation  into  the  room.  What  at 
first  looked  like  a  cloud  proved  to  be  in  reality  a  mass  of 
filmy  red  muslin  stars  (except  Uvo  high  up)  were  some 
sort  of  brilliants,  and  the  angiel  I  need  not  specify. 

To  say  I  was  surprised  is  a  very  iweak  statement  of  fact. 
My  adored  one  simply  looked— well,  adorable  beyond  ex- 
pression. 

We  had  to  drive  about  five  miles  to  the  ball-room,  and 
you  must  be  very  dull,  inexperienced,  and  unsympathetic 
if  you  cannot  imagine  my  ecstacy  of  delight  in  having  such 
loveHness  as  my  close  companion  in  that  vehicle  "built  for 
two." 

Nor  did  her  loveliness  -  suffer  by  comparison  when  we 
reached  our  destination,  for  she  was  admittedly  the  "Queen 
of  the  Ball, ' '  and  a  proud  young  fellow  was  I.  Of  course, 
the  wives  of  our  iwealthy  principals  wore  more  costly  dress 
and  jewelry;  but  she  had  the  incomparable  advantage  of 
youth ;  nor  could  they  approae,h  the  graceful  ladylike  bear- 
ing of  my  girl.  Several  of  the  ladies  looked  at  her  with  en- 
vious eyes,  especially  when  both  my  principals  had  a  few 
dances  with  her.  I  don't  know  that  my  own  eyes  were  al- 
together gratified  at  that  sight;  but  I  had  my  full  share 
of  partnerships  iwith  her. 

We  danced  from  eight  till  twelve,  then  reballasted  our- 
selves at  a  dinner  of  six  courses  with  unlimited  wine.  Then 
followed  the  usual  toasts,  recitations,  songs,  and  instru- 
mental music  till  two  o'clock,  when  dancing  was  resumed 
with  renewed  ardor  and  increasing  enjoyment  until  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Then  iwe  walked  home  together,  and  this  to  me  was  not 
the  least  delightful  item  on  our  programme.  Although  the 
distance  was  five  miles,  it  seemed  to  us  all  too  short.  Her 
mother  had  coffee  ready  for  us,  so  we  wound  up  those  many 
hours  of  pleasure  in  cosy  comfort.  We  bad  both  had  an 
unspeakably  happy  time,  and  who  would  not. under  such 
conditions  at  that  age  ? 


131 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

But  it  is  said  that  the  course  of  true  love  never  runs 
smoothly. 

Her  brother,  in  some  way  or  other,  scraped  acquaintance 
with  some  of-  those  superfine  specimens  of  tailoring  and 
''swagger"  who  condescend  for  necessary  filthy  lucre  to 
fulfil  some  mysterious  duty  under  the  title  of  "bank- 
clerk,"  or  to  display  for  general  edification  their  agility 
in  "counter- jumping"  and  incidentally  minister  to  the  em- 
bellishment of  the  feminine  public.  You  know  the  brand 
I  mean;  you  couldn't  distinguish  them  from  real  gentle- 
men unless  you  were  in  that  trade  yourself. 

As  most  young  women  are  not  in  that  calling,  it  is  hardly 
surprising  that  they  are  easily  impressed  by  these  fearful 
and  wonderful  human  peacocks. 

Some  of  these  gay  gilded  youths  had  been  smitten  by  EI5- 
beth's  charms,  and  through  their  friendship  with  Albrecht, 
had  come  to  be  on  visiting  terms  at  their  mother's  house, 
so  that  I  found  one  or  more  of  them  there  much  more 
often  than  I  liked. 

There  was  no  formal  engagement  between  Elsbeth  and 
myself.  Her  superior  education  and  exceptional  accom- 
plishments, her  natural  reserve,  my  own  diffidence  (for  I 
was  not  what  is  called  "a  ladies'  man"— a  "vain  carpet 
knight"  as  one  of  Scott's  characters  expresses  it),  and  even 
the  very  sincerity  and  depth  of  my  devotion,  all  combined, 
to  make  me  too  cautiously  diliatory  in  making  the  all-impor- 
tant proposal.  Perhaps  this  was  another  instance  in  my 
life  of  neglecting;  to  take  advantage  of  "the  tide  in  the 
affairs  of  men  which  taken  at  the  flood  leads  on  to  fortune, ' ' 
(matrimonially  and  domestically)  and  which  being  neglect- 
ed results  in  "all  the  voyages  of  our  life"  being  "bound  in 
shallows  and  in  miseries. ' '  I  think  nearly  all  ladies,  iwhether 
of  lovely  status  or  of  high  social  position,  like  to  be  taken 
by  storm.  They  seem  to  enjoy  being  either  literally  or  fig- 
uratively carried  off  by  force,  whether  it  be  by  a  wild  young 
knight  like  "Young  Lochinvar,  a  bold  and  even  bad  baron 
of  similarly  impetuous  and  masterful  love  methods,  the  Ro- 
or  the  wildest  savage  who  adopts  the  same  tactics  no  matter 
how  roughly.     Even  the  unprincipled  love-pirates  of  mod- 

132 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ern  eivilizatian  appear  to  be  in  higher  esteem  with  their 
cruelly  treated  victims  then  honorable  captors  usually  are. 

I  suppose  the  truth  is  it  is  natural  for  the  softer  sex  to 
like  intense  and  passionate  love  and  to  pardon  its  excesses ; 
to  admire  manly  audacity  and  resolution,  to  adore  strength 
in  any  shape ;  and  to  sacrifice  self. 

Instinctively  conscious  of  this,  the  average  commonplace 
young  beau  of  every  grade  assumes  a  boisterous  blustering 
pretence  of  such  qualities  as  ''most  become  a  man."  His 
loudness  of  dress,  manner,  and  voice  being  merely  simul- 
ations of  his  ideal  of  aggressive  irresistability,  his  ''mash- 
er" stare  his  notion  of  the  piercing  eagle  glance  of  the  mas- 
terful man,  his  eye-glass  nothing  but  an  artificial  aid  to 
that  desideratum ;  and  so,  to  use  a  slan,g  but  very  expressive 
term,  he  "bluffs"  the  generality  of  girls  into  mistaking  him 
for  a  very  overpowering  creature,  indeed.  If  his  occupa- 
tion is  more  or  less  ' '  gentlemanly ' '  he  naturally  has  a  great 
advantage  with  the  fair  sex  as  against  a  mere  "working- 
man" — the  feminine  eye  associates  with  the  one  silks  and 
jewels  and  luxuries  and  ' '  society, ' '  with  the  other  ' '  dowdi- 
ness"  and  wash-tubs  and  a  bevy  of  rough  and  tumble  chil- 
dren. 

For  such  reasons  the  love-conquests  of  the  ' '  preaux  chev- 
aliers" of  the  office  and  genteel  counter  are  numerous.  I 
was  quite  aware  of  the  dangers  of  such  possible  rivalry, 
and  being  only  a  young  mechanic,  not  unnaturally  felt  my- 
self threatened  with  total  eclipse — my  '-'nose  being  put  out 
of  joint. '  ^  I  realized  that  their  social  abilities  and  practice 
gave  them  considerable  advantages. 

Of  course,  as  I  held  no  formal  commission  as  Elsbeth's 
future  husband,  these  new  visitors  had  quite  as  much  right 
in  the  field  as  I  had,  although  I  knew  that  her  mother  great- 
ly favored  my  courtship,  both  for  personal  reasons  and  be- 
cause I  was  earning  good  waiges.  But  I  soon  had  an  un- 
easy suspicion  that  there  was  a  secret  understanding  be- 
tween Elsbeth  and  one  of  these  frequent  visitors  of  which 
her  mother  knew  nothing ;  and  this  suspicion  was  soon  sup- 
man  youths  who  forcibly  eloped  with  the  Sabine  women, 
ported  by  hard  facts. 

133 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

When  Christmas  came  round  I  went  to  spend  the  evening 
with  the  Baensches,  taking-  with  me  a  few,  not  very  costly, 
presents  with  which  I  had  furnished  myself.  Mrs.  Baensch 
received  me  most  cordially  and  thanked  me  for  having 
sent  such  beautiful  Christmas  presents,  one  proving  to  be 
a  magnificent  album  of  some  pounds'  value— of  which  pres- 
ent I  was  quite  innocent.  Elsbeth  greeted  me  iwith  one  of 
her  most  gracious  smiles,  but  made  no  reference  to  that 
album,  showing  that  she  was  perfectly  aware  it  did  not 
come  from  me;  and  her  conscious  looks  betrayed  a  good 
deal  more— that  she  l!new    well  who  had  sent  it. 

Well,  you  can  imagine  my  feelings  of  mortification  and 
jealousy;  but  nevertheless,  as  she  had  not  corrected  her 
mother's  mistake  I  was  unwilling  for  her  sake  to  do  so,  and 
therefore  had  to  quietly  accept  credit  I  iwas  not  entitled  to 
but  could  not  protest  against.  As  some  reward,  I  suppose, 
for  my  consideration,  Elsbeth  was  exceptionally  gracious 
with  me  and  seemed  in  unusually  high  spirits,  and  we  all 
had  an  apparently  joyful  evening,  what  with  games,  music, 
and  plenty  of  lager-beer— which  last  I  probably  in  my  per- 
turbation was  the  chief  patron  of ;  but  I  iwas  not  very  well 
pleased  with  this  album  business  and  it  ranked  deeply;  so 
that  after  that  Christmas  my  ardor  cooled  and  my  court- 
ship flagged. 

Apart  from  disappointment  and  jealousy  I  could  not 
overcome  the  diffidence  arising  from  her  attainments  and  a 
sense  of  my  own  drawbacks  as  a  mere  working-man,  al- 
though I  continued  my  efforts  at  self -improvement  by  at- 
tending regularly  at  evening  educational  classes  where  ad- 
vanced subjects  were  taught.  I  thought  it  my  iwisest  course 
to  let  my  love-suit  wait  a  while,  but  I  continued  my  visits, 
though  only  as  an  ordinary  friend,  and  on  this  footing  I 
continued  for  some  years— until,  in  fact,  I  left  for  South 
America. 


134 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MILITARY  SERVICE. 

When  nearly  twenty-one  years  of  age  I  had  to  report  my- 
self to  the  army  authorities  with  a  view  to  undergoing  a 
term  of  military  service  as  provided  by  the  laiw  of  Con- 
scription. British  people  mostly  regard  such  compulsory 
military  service  as  oppressive  and  a  hardship.  In  Germany 
it  is  nothing  of  the  kind ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  regarded  not 
merely  as  a  patriotic  duty  to  i which  the  vast  majority  most 
cheerfully  submit,  but  also  as  a  privilege  and  a  means  of 
great  personal  (as  well  a^  national)  benefit  by  reason  of  the 
splendid  physical  training  afforded.  Further,  all  classes 
are  equally  liable  to  such  service,  and  unless  qualifying  by 
a  special  course  of  instruction  and  by  examinations,  all 
must  equally  serve  in  the  ranks,  so  that  even  the  wealthiest 
and  the  noblest  by  birth  are  found  on  the  strictest  equality 
for  the  time  being  in  those  ranks  with  the  poorest  and  low- 
liest in  social  status.  This  fact  promotes  an  elevation  of 
tone,  obviating  the  stigma  apt  to  be  associated  with  the 
plain  ** Tommy  Atkins"  of  the  British  army.  It  tends  to 
promote  the  nobler  kind  of  socialistic  or  democratis  feel- 
ing, just  as  your  British  athletic  sports,  such  as  cricket,  foot- 
ball, and  rowing,  admittedly  do.  In  fact,  there  is  much 
the  same  general  attitude  of  mind  amongst  Germans  to- 
wards their  term  of  military  service  as  on  the  part,  of  say, 
English  university  students  toward  the  sports  in  which  they 
engage.  The  Oxford  and  Cambridge  men,  for  instance, 
have  an  ambition  and  feel  it  an  honor  to  be  selected  for 


135 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

their  representative  ''eights"  in  rowing  and  for  their 
''eleven"  on  the  cricket-field. 

In  precisely  the  same  way  young  fellows  in  Grermany 
esteem  it  an  honor  and  an  object  of  ambition  to  be  drafted 
for  military  service,  especially  if  in  the  Imperial  Guards 
or  some  other  crack  corps.  The  drill  and  training  are  as 
pleasurably  submitted  to  as  the  "training"  and  "coach- 
ing" for  (games  by  British  youths.  In  general,  the  term 
of  service  is  one  of  good  living,  joviality,  and  all-round 
enjoyment.     It  is  more  a  holiday  than  a  task. 

Of  course,  in  such  a  vast  array  of  men  as  the  huge  Ger- 
man army  there  are  petty  tyrants  and  other  evilly  disposed 
men ;  but  such  are  only  exceptions,  certainly  not  the  rule. 
Such  cases  get  published  world-wide  and  create  a  false  im- 
pression that  oppression  is  prevalent  under  the  German  sys- 
tem. It  is  not  so  at  aU;  you  simply  hear  of  a  few  objec- 
tionable thiners  that  occasionally  happen,  as  they  do  in  all 
armies  or  navies;  what  is  good  and  beneficial  is  not  given 
much  publicity  to  outside  Germany,  and  so  you  know  little 
or  nothing  of  it. 

I  was  accepted  as  eligible  for  either  the  full  three  years' 
term  or  for  the  first  reserve,  which  last  involves  only  six 
weeks'  compulsory  and  continuous  service.  By  the  system 
of  drafting,  which  is  purely  a  mechanical  one  (except  for 
the  "Guards")  depending  as  it  does  on  the  accident  of 
roll  numbers— as  much  so  as  a  lottery— I  was  placed  in  the 
first  reserve,  and  for  six  weeks  had  real  hard  drill,  exer- 
cises, and  marching,  also  the  discipline  was  strict  but  in 
no  way  injurious. 

One  of  our  company  iwas  a  fine  smart  young  fellow  named 

Charlie .     The  "Mother    of  the*^    Company"  (who 

was  a  man)  that  is,  the  Sergeant-Major,  desired  him  to  act 
as  clerk ;  but  Charlie  was  not  willing  and  so  got  a  little  out 
of  favor  with  the  Sergeant. 

Some  of  us  had  obtained  leave  one  day  to  go  on  a  picnic 
excursion,  but  Charlie  was  refused. 

The  drag  came  along  and  those  who  had  leave  mounted, 
as  did  their  respective  girls— for,  of  course,  a  picnic  would 
be  a  flat  affair  witlioi^t  them.     Charlie's  girl  \\as  there, 

136 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

but  where  was  he?  She  was  in  a  rare  fluster,  **Had  he 
got  leave?"  ''What  kept  him  late?"  and  so  on.  Now 
Charlie  was  one  of  those  roily  '* devil-may-care"  chaps  and 
managed  at  the  last  moment  to  get  aboard  unseen  by  the 
officer,  and  stowed  himself  out  of  sight.  This  made  the 
girl  more  suspicious  than  before,  and  she  cross-questioned 
him  severely  on  the  point,  knowing  that  he  might  get  into 
serious  trouble  if  away  without  leave. 

But  he  laughingly  turned  her  questions  aside,  assuring 


LOOK  FOR  CHARLIE  AND  ME 

her  that  he  had  leave  all  right,  not  explaining  that  he  m^ant 
"French  leave."  We  had  a  real  good  time  and  he  was 
the  life  of  the  party. 

On  our  return  he  all  but  got  in  the  barracks  undiscover- 
ed— but  not  quite;  and  the  result  was  he  had  a  few  days 
in  the  cells.  As  he  could  not  visit  his  girl  during  this  time 
she  became  very  anxious,  not  knowing  whether  he  was  neg- 


137 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

lecting  her,  or  in  trouble.  She  pestered  us  with  questions 
and  it  was  all  twe  could  do  to  avoid  letting  her  know  the 
facts.     But  he  was  incurable — always  in  scrapes. 

We  had  plenty  of  excellent  food,  more  than  we  actually 
needed,  and  it  was  quite  a  common  thing  for  a  number  of 
poor  women  to  come  to  the  barracks  and  buy  at  cheap  rates 
bread  and  other  rations  that  had  been  served  out.  Sons 
of  wealthy  farmers  were  well  supplied  iwith  hams  and  other 
good  things  from  home,  and  other  well-to-do  privates  also 
procured  whatever  they  fancied.  As  there  was  a  spirit  of 
generous  comrades;  we  all  shared  liberally  in  such  etcet 
eras,  and  as  is  most  invariably  the  case  in  the  army,  got 
**as  fat  as  butter."  If  there  were  weak  chests  they  soon 
filled  out  proudly,  stooping  shoulders  became  square  and 
upright,  bent  knees  and  a  slouching  gait  gave  place  to  a 
firm  springy  soldierly  sti-p  ,and  we  were  made  to  carry  our- 
selves with  the  erect  digjiity  of  a  prize  rooster.  The  ut- 
most precision  and  neatness  of  uniform  and  accoutrements 
was  also  insisted  upon,  to  our  general  benefit,  and  for  any 
defect  of  this  kind  the  whole  company  and  especially  the 
** mother,"  or  Sergeant-Ma jor,  had  to  suffer  as  well  as  the 
actual  defaulter.  So  the  careless  had  a  bad  time  from  their 
comrades. 


138 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ILLNESS,  PRODIGALITY,  AND  OTHER  THINGS. 

Last  chapter  was  fairly  serious;  this  is  as  much  so — in  an- 
other way. 

First,  when  I  was  about  twenty-two  years  of  age,  I 
caught  a  very  severe  cold,  which  left  most  serious  lifelong 
effects.  It  happened  this  way:  Every  Saturday  I  took 
a  hot  bath  in  one  of  our  public  bathing  establishments.  One 
Saturday  was  a  bitterly  cold  day— about  30  to  40  degrees 
(centigrade)  under  freezing  point.  When  I  came  out  I 
had  to  walk  through  a  narrow  street  do^wn  which  the  in- 
tensely cold  air  swept  like  a  draught.  As  I  wore  no  flannels 
at  that  time  and  the  hot  bath  had  made  my  skin  super- 
sensitive, the  result  was  very  acute  bronchitis,  which  be- 
came chronic  for  thirty  years  and  had  I  not  later  on  left 
the  old  country  for  a  milder  one,  I  feel  certain  that  wher- 
ever my  less  tangible  self  might  have  emigrated  to,  my 
more  practically  useful  entity  would  have  very  involuntar- 
ily stayed  in  that  old  country,  under  conditions  that  most 
of  us  have  a  strong  desire  to  avoid. 

1  take  the  oppor(;uaity  here  of  urging  young  people  to 
take  the  utmost  care  of  their  health;  good  health  is  the 
most  priceless  of  blessings,  and  though  I  now  possess  abun- 
dance of  this  world's  wealth,  I iwould  freely  give  every  pen- 
ny if  by  so  doing  T  could  purchase  such  a  complete  measure 
of  health  as  I  once  enjoyed. 

Still,  I  recovered,  at  the  time  I  refer  to,  from  the  worst 
severity  of  this  mishap  and  notwithstanding  the  weakening 

139 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

effects  of  that  illness,  relapsed  into  a  life  of  pleasure, 
thoug^h  keeping  within  the  bounds  of  prudence.  We  were 
a  lot  of  young  scamps  working  together  and  meeting  a  lot 
of  other  young  and  old  scamps  in  all  sorts  of  schools  where 
the  higher  subjects  were  not  given  much  attention,  but 
where  teachers  and  students  were  equally  assiduous ;  what 
one  did  not  know  the  other  did  and  iwe  were  extremely  so- 
cialistic in  sharing  such  things. 

Such  a  life  naturally  made  "ducks  and  drakes"  of  my 
weekly  earnings  and  often  bespoke  them  some  distance 
ahead.  My  pockets  were  always  about  empty  of  coin  by 
Monday  morning,  and  from  then  till  Saturday  I  would 
(most  of  the  time)  sit  on  the  stool  of  repentance  and  rue- 
fully viewing  the  state  of  my  ledger  would  resolve  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf,  open  a  fresh  account,  and  strive  to  get 
a  credit  balance;  but  as  a  rule  the  following  Saturday 
night  found  such  a  thing  impossible  for  that  week.  One 
Saturday  evening  I  did  by  some  freak  of  resolution  bank 
ten  shillings  in  my  chest  of  drawers,  and  went  out  with 
the  intention  of  saving  that;  but  before  two  o'clock  that 
night  I  walked  three  miles  to  get  this  money,  and  spent 
it.  I  was  not  the  only  prodigal,  nor  do  I  think  I  iwas  worse 
than  most  of  the  others. 

So  far  as  I  can  judge  the  world  by  my  own  observation, 
it  seems  "much  of  a  muchness"  everywhere.  Undoubtedly 
there  are  some  scattered  about  who  avoid  or  escape  such  ex- 
periences ;  but  with  the  vast  majority  of  men  it  seems  more 
a  matter  of  degree  or  of  hypocrisy.  I  have  known  many 
men  in  many  places  who  have  been  regarded  as  models  of 
propriety,  yet  there  were  few  indeed  of  these  about  whom 
I  did  not  sooner  or  later  know  or  hear  compromising  in- 
cidents. 

About  this  time,  soon  after  the  illness  mentioned,  I  joined 
a  dance  club,  the  usual  style  of  thing  in  that  line.  Th€ 
dances  were  held  in  a  large  well-lit  and  decorated  room.  A 
piano  and  a  violin  supplied  music.  Amongst  many  really 
charming  young  women  whom  I  met  there,  iwas  naturally 
one  by  whom  I  was  specially  attracted  and  very  soon  deeply 
enslaved.     She  was  exceedingly  beautiful,— elegant  figure, 

140 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

very  fair  compkxion  with  most  lovely  blue  eyes,  and  a 
splendid  dancer.  We  were  very  frequently  partners  and 
before  I  knew  iwhere  I  was  I  was  really  madly  in  love  with 
her,— so  much  so  that  I  fairly  raved  about  her  and  show- 
ed such  extravagant  infatuation  that  I  became  the  butt  of 
some  of  my  companions  who  were  a  little  more  level-head- 
ed with  worldly  wisdom  in  these  matters.  But  for  the  time 
being  there  was  only  one  thing  in  the  .world  for  me  and 
in  the  pursuit  of  that  one  object  ridicule  was  as  nothing. 

The  thought  of  her  haunted  me  day  and  night,  and  when 
I  was  absent  from  her  I  was  racked  with  jealous  fears.  I 
could  hard!}  wait  for  knock-off  time  in  the  evening  to  tear 
down  to  where  she  worked  daily — (she  was  a  dressmaker) 
—to  enjoy  the  delight  of  meeting  her  and  seeing  her  home 
and  prevent  rivals  from  doing  so. 

In  this  last  object  I  was  not  always  successful,  the  faith- 
less fair  one  being  not  averse  to  a  little  variety,  I  suppose, 
and  never  at  a  loss  for  plausible  excuses. 

There  was  one  of  whom  I  was  especially  jealous,  a  good- 
looking  enough  fellow  of  the  all-prevailing  counter-jumper 
order.  At  last  she  had  distributed  her  favor  so  impar- 
tially that  I  lost  interest  in  my  share,  not  caring  for  half 
a  girl.  The  last  I  saw  of  her  she  was  in  the  company  of 
an  agent  w^ho  was  in  a  state  of  semi-intoxication-,  whether 
they  were  married  or  not  I  cannot  say,  but  she  was  lead- 
ing his  horse  for  him— which  fact  may  or  not  have  been 
a  sign  of  marriage. 


141 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

TWO   OR   THREE  INCIDENTS— AN    ACCIDENT. 

One  Sunday  evening  myself  and  two  friends  iwere  re- 
turning from  a  dance,  and  all  three  of  us  had  got  into  that 
pleasantly  altruistic  frame  of  mind  which  makes  you  beam 
complacent  good-will  towards  all  the  world  and  serenade 
as  much  of  it  as  you  can  with  a  heartiness  that  should  cover 
a  multitude  of  musical  sins  that  you  may  be  guilty  of  at 
the  time— even  including  a  sort  of  kettledrum  accompani- 
ment with  street  door  knockers.  We  overtook  two  ladies 
vwho,  by  their  clinging  together  and  nervous  edging  to  one 
side,  seemed  a  little  apprehensive  of  our  approach.  Notic- 
ing this,  we  chivalrously  tried  to  allay  their  fears  and  as- 
sure thein  of  our  nobility  of  character,  chyt  as  g  ntlcnien 
we  felt  it  our  sacred  duty  to  protect  all  ladies  and  desired 
permission  to  give  some  little  proof  of  this  by  escorting 
them  safely  home.  I  am  not  sure  that  our  articulation  was 
as  fluent  and  clear  as  the  sentiments  we  desired  to  convey 
were  entitled  to;  however,  those  gracious  ladies  for  some 
no  doubt  good  reason  overlooked  the  laek  of  formal  intro- 
duction and  other  little  unconventional i ties,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded together  iwith  the  decorum  of  two  princesses  of  the 
blood  under  charge  of  a  guard  of  honor.  It  was  a  dark 
night  and  raining,  so  gallantry  demanded  that  we  should 
both  cover  the  ladies  with  our  umbrellas  and  offer  our  arms. 
On  arriving  at  their  destination  one  of  the  ladies 
could  not  easily  find  the  keyhole,  so  I  lost  no  time,  in  prof- 
fering my  aid  as  an  expert  in  that  line,  and  absent-mind- 


142 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

edly  (that  is  the  best  excuse  I  can  think  of)  walked  in,  the 
pitchy  darkness  favoring  me. 

Such  uninvited  intrusion,  such  impertinent  tres- 
pass, richly  deserved  the  avalanche  of  outraged  feminine 
indignation  which  it  did  not  receive;  but  instead,  was  met 
only  by  those  mild  playful  reproofs  which  ladies  favor  when 
not  vd^ry  much  in  earnest— which,  in  fact,  convey  approval 
as  much  as  anything.  Instead  of  alarming  the  neighbor- 
hood and  sending  for  the  police,  they  made  us  a  nice  cup 
of  coffee,  and  not  liking  to  turn  such  gallant  cavaliers  all 
into  the  streets  again  in  such  an  inclement  night,, they  con- 
trived to  accommodate  myself  and  one  of  my  friends  very 
comfortably  indeed.  I  cannot  forget  their  kindness,  but 
was  never  able  to  discover  who  they  were,  though  I  believe 
one  was  a  young  married  lady.  The  other  was  single,  and 
kindly  extended  an  invitation  to  me  to  visit  her  at  the 
place  she  was  lodging  at. 

Accordingly,  one  Sunday  evening  found  me  at  the  ad- 
dress given.  She  lived  on  the  second  floor  above  a  grocer's 
shop. 

The  elderly  couple  who  kept  this  establishment  were  of 
the  ultra-precise  type  that  weighs  you  two  pounds  of  sugar 
to  within  about  three  grains,  and  goes  to  church  regularly, 
and  to  bed  early— most  respectable,  propriety  loving  people 
who  would  strongly  disapprove  of  contraband  visitors  be- 
neath their  roof.  Therefore,  my  young  lady  friend,  whom 
I  had  notified  beforehand  of  my  intended  call,  was  waiting 
for  me  outside;  and  after  I  had  at  her  suggestion  removed 
my  boots  she  led  me  by  the  hand  through  the  dark  shop 
and  up  the  staircase,  not  without  upsetting  one  or  two 
boxes  in  the  former.  The  noise  of  these,  of  course,  re- 
sulted in  a  challenge  question  from  somewhere  within;  but 
my  guide's  ready,  "It's  only  me,"  allayed  alarm,  and  her 
bold  footfall,  both  prevented  my  tread  from  being  heard 
and  disarmed  suspicion.  Once  within  the  room  we  were 
pretty  safe,  though  we  thought  it  prudent  to  converse  in 
very  law  tones.  That,  however,  is  no  drawback  to  young 
people,  to  whom  the  pleasure  of  each  other's  society  is  the 
main  consideration.     If  you  notice,  they  scarcely  ever  talk 

143 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

loud  to  each  other,  but  are  quite  content  with  that  mys- 
terious telepathy  vulgarly  known  as  "spooning."  It  is 
certainly  a  pleasant  enough  entertainment,  though  risky— 
as  delightful  as  dancing,  if  not  more  so,  better  than  most 
other  diversions,  as  those  who  have  some  experience  will 
agree. 

My  companion  managed  to  give  me  to  understand  that, 
she  had  no  aversion  to  marriage,  that  she  thought  a  life- 
long partnership  between  us  would  be  the  acme  of  happi- 
ness; but,  I  regret  to  have  to  say  that  I  had  no  such  seri- 
ous views  in  mind,  as  I  was  not  then  in  what  seemed  to 
me  a  position  to  marry.  Besides,  "Light  is  held  the  prize 
that's  easily  won,"  so  I  thought  it  wiser  not  to  call  again. 

I  hope  there  is  some  moral  in  this  anecdote.  I  think 
there  is  more  than  perhaps  appears  on  the  surface — espe- 
cially for  young  women  inclined  to  be  too  trustful. 

While  connected  with  this  dance  club,  I  had  an  adven- 
ture more  amusing  to  reflect  upon  than  to  undergo. 

One  Sunday  evening,  late,  I  was  on  my  way  to  a  dance 
at  a  little  country  place  about  five  miles  inland  from  Ham- 
burg—on the  eastern  side  of  the  Ausen  Alster  (Outer  Als- 
ter,  a  fair-sized  lal^e).  It  was  winter  and  the  snoiw  lay 
thick  on  the  ground.  I  had  spent  the  earlier  part  of  the 
evening  with  friends,  and  did  not  arrive  at  the  ball  room 
(I  went  in  a  bus)  till  just  after  ten  o'clock.  I  found  the 
place  empty  and  about  to  be  locked  up,  the  good  people 
of  this  locality  being  more  circumspect  in  their  habits 
than  I  was  used  to  in  other  places.  I  had  expected  it 
would  be  a  case  of  **We  won't  go  home  'till  morning." 
There  was  the  hard  fact,  I  was  too  late— only  the  begin- 
ning of  my  troubles. 

I  found  the  bus  was  not  going  to  return  that  night;  i 
five  mile  walk  in  deep  snow  was  not  a  pleasant  prospect. 

There  was  one  ray  of  hope.  I  learned  a  steamer  iwoul( 
be  leaving  for  Hamburg  in  a  few  minutes-if  it  was  not  ver^ 
punctual  I  had  a  bare  chance  of  catching  it.  I  set  off  a 
high  speed  and  reached  its  berth  at  the  jetty  just  in  timi 
to  find  it  a  few  feet  away.  In  desperation  I  made  a  wil< 
leap  and  fortunately  landed  on  board,  panting  with  ex 

144 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ert ion— only  to  find  that  it  was  not  going  to  Hamburg  at 
all,  but  to  a  place  about  as  far  therefrom  as  my  port  of 
embarkation.  Here  was  a  pretty  to  do.  However,  the 
darkest  cloud  has  a  silver  lining;  there  was  an  off-chance 
of  catching  another  boat  at  our  destination.  Luckily,  1 
caught  that  boat,  though  I  had  another  hard  run  for  it, 
and  so  was  spared  being  a  "Flying  Dutchman"  during 
that  keen  frosty  night ;  but  it  was  about  four  in  the  morn- 
ing when  I  reached  my  desired  haven,  and  then  found  a 
place  where  I  regaled  on  steak  and  hot  coffee  before  go- 
ing to  work  at  seven  o'clock. 

So  I  had  a  night's  *' dance,"  but  not  nearly  so  pleasant 
as  I  had  anticipated — no  charming  partners  to  help  me 
"chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying  feet"— no  flirtations. 

I  will  throiw  in  here  an  incident  of  my  lodging  house 
days. 

My  mate  and  I  shared  a  room  between  us.  One  Sunday 
morning  I  was  just  "getting  up"  when  there  was  a  knock 
at  our  room  door.  My  mate,  who  was  at  the  chest  of  draw- 
ers iwith  his  back  towards, and  not  noticing  me,  called  out 
"come  in."  Guessing  that  it  was  our  landlady,  a  young 
married  woman,  with  our  morning  coffee  and  rolls,  I  sprang 
hastily  back  into  bed  feeling  that  a  simple  night  garment 
was  hardly  "good  form"  to  receive  a  lady  caller  in.  But, 
"more  haste,  less  speed,"  my  impetuous  native  modesty 
was  more  than  the  bedstead,  an  old-fashioned  wooden  one, 
was  able  to  bear.  Its  outer  frame-board  snapped  and  out 
I  rolled  on  the  floor  clutching  convulsively  at  some  of  the 
bedding  for  partial  shelter.  All  this,  of  course,  was  the 
work  of  an  instant,  while  in  fact  the  door  was  opening, 
and  our  landlady  bustled  in  just  as  my  involuntary  per- 
formance was  at  the  most  tragic  point. 

Now  a  bachelor's  bedroom,  early  on  Sunday  mornings, 
is  very  liable  to  be  at  sixes  and  sevens.  When  retiring 
over-night  he  is  often  afflicted  with  mental  confusion  and 
hallucinations,  resulting  in  his  apparel  being  scattered  in 
unaecnstomed  plaqes;  his  boots,  for  instance,  hung  on  the 
gas  jet,  his  hat  on  the  fire  tongs ;  also  he,  himself,  is  just 
as  likely  to  be  under  the  hearth  rug  as  in  his  proper  rest- 

145 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ing-place,  especially  as  it  is  so  much  easier  to  climb  down  on 
to  the  floor  than  up  into  a  bed  at  such  times  and  under 
such  conditions. 

Evidently,  our  landlady  sized  up  the  painful  panorama 
on  some  such  theory,  yet  with  fine  tact  and  courtesy,  spiced 


with  naive  humor  and  sarcasm,  supplied  me  with  a  decently 
plausible  excuse  with  iwhich  to  cover  my  frantic  confusion 
by  remarking,  **My  goodness,  Herr  Jager,  you  must  have 
rolled  about  a  lot  in  the  night. ' ' 


146 


i 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


I    MEET    MY    FATE. 


I  now  approach  a  most  important  event  in  life — my 
Waterloo  in  love. 

One  of  my  fellow- workmen,  who  was  a  particular  friend 
of  mine,  iwas  about  to  be  married,  and  the  event  had  a  most 
important  influence  on  my  life. 

As  I  was  so  close  a  friend  of  the  bridegroom,  I  was 
invited  to  the  wedding.  The  guests,  about  fifty  in  all, 
were  mostly  near  relatives  of  the  contracting  parties.  I, 
as  usual,  was  alone,  having  not  even  a  temporary  accred- 
ited sweetheart.  This,  hoiwever,  was  not  such  a  great 
drawback  as  it  may  at  first  sight  appear,  for  it  left  me  free 
to  dance  and  flirt  iwith  many  of  the  enchanting  creatures— 
flitting  like  a  bee  from  one  sweet  flower  to  another— tast- 
ing the  pleasures  of  variety.  I  could  be  happy  with  any 
of  them,  for  I  had  to  a  great  extent,  lost  my  original  bash- 
fulness ;  and  without  self-laudation,  I  certainly  could  not 
complain  that  many  did  not  show  me  much  favor.  I  had 
acquired  several  little  arts  that  enabled  me  to  shine  with 
some  brilliance  as  a  ''society  man.''  I  could  recite  and.  also 
sing  a  little— particularly  after  a  glass  or  two  of  lager- 
beer  (in  Germany  scarcely  anything  is  done  without  the 
efficient  aid  of  lager-beer;  even  at  political  meetings  the 
chairman.,  candidate,  supporters,  reporters,  and  nearly 
everybody  else  present  has  his  pint  in  front  of  him ) .  Above 
all,  I  was  a  first  rate  dancer,  which  is  a  very  high  quali- 
fication with  ladies,  for  it  not  only  contributes  to  their  en- 
joyment of  the  dancing  itself,  but  what  is  of  much  greater 

147 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

importance  to  them  it  assists  them  to  display  their  own 
praces  to  the  best  advantage,  A  good  dancer  of  the  male 
isex,  takes  care  to  act  as  simply  an  accompanist  to  his  part- 
ner ;  he  has  to  show  her  off,  not  himself. 

Most  of  us  enjoyed  ourselves  immensely— even  the  bride- 
groom, so  far  as  I  could  judge.  Two  young  men,  however, 
seenu  d  to  be  having  a  very  bad  time.  One  was  the  ac- 
cepted suitor  of  my  friend,  the  bridegroom's  sister,  and 
the  ctlier  the  sweetheart  of  her  cousin.  These  unfortunate 
young  gentlemen  !were  so  mad  with  jealousy  of  me  that 
for  weeks  afterward  they  and  their  respective  girls  had 
tiffs  that  went  very  near  breaking  off*  the  engagements. 

About  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  this  wedding  party 
broke  up.  I  stayed  to  help  my  friend  re-screw  in  their 
places  doors,  which  had  been  temporarily  removed,  and  also 
to  replace  the  furniture. 

While  so  engaged  I  got  into  conversation  with  the  woman 
who  had  acted  as  waitress  during  the  evening.  We  never 
know  when  a  very  great  event  is  going  to  spring  from  a 
very  little  cause.  IJnconsciously,  I  fell  into  the  same  snare, 
in  many  respects,  that  my  unfortunate  stepfather  had 
tumbled  into.  I  ran  blindly  right  into  the  net  of  the 
* '  matchmaker. ' ' 

She  was  a  very  agreeable  chatty  person,  so  frank,  so 
confidential,  so  delicately  flattering!— "What  a  lovely 
party  it  was,— How  lovely  the  bride  looked,— What  pretty 
girls  Miss  Bridegroom  and  her  cousin  were, — How  beau- 
tifully they  danced,  especially  when  I  was  their  partner, 
—How  they  and  Miss  So-and-So  and  Miss  Von  Other  had 
praised  my  dancing, — and  other  similar  remarks.  At  lasts 
she,  herself,  had  a  daughter,  who  was  to  have  been  at  the 
wedding  only  her  siweetheart  objected.  She,  herself,  (the| 
mother)  objected  to  him  as  a  prospective  son-in-law  (with 
whys  and  iwherefores)  and  wanted  her  daughter  to  give  him 
up.  She  (the  said  daughter)  was  such  a  nice,  lovely,  dear, 
girl,  though  she  (the  mother)  said  so  herself.  She  would j 
like  me  to  make  her  daughter's  acquaintance,— and  so  on. 

Well  I  did  make  this  highly-to-be-desired  young  lady'sj 
acquaintance,  and  in  very  little  time,  for  she  was  an  in- 

148 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

timate  friend  of  my  bridegroom-friend's  newly-made  bride 
—and  many  a  time  since  have  I  cursed  the  day  I  saw  her, 
for  she  proved  the  blight  on  a  large  part  of  my  later  life. 

About  tw6  weeks  after  that  wedding  we  had  a  half -hol- 
iday, and  my  friend  and  I  arranged  to  have  a  little  jaunt 
together.  1  iwas  to  call  for  him.  I  have  little  doubt  that 
those  confounded  female  plotters  had  put  their  mischief- 
making  heads  together  and  with  womanly  skill  inveigled 
my  friend  into  their  pretty  little  scheme. 

On  arriving  at  his  house,  I  found  demurely  sitting  there 
and  was  duly  introduced  to  a  good-looking  girl  of  slight 
build,  but  with  the  loveliest  blue  eyes  you  could  imagine; 
deeply  blue,  brightly  blue,  tenderly  blue,  mischievously 
blue,  everything  that  blue  eyes  can  be— eyes  that  would 
love-kill  a  far  more  love-proof  man  than  me  at  long  range ; 
and  she  aimed  straight  and  hit  the  mark.  I  was  pierced 
through  and  through. 

We  had  a  few  minute's  pleasant  chat  and  I  found  that 
she  was  not  one  of  those  wax  doll-like  beauties  who  can 
say  little  more  than  ' '  yes ' '  and  ' '  no  "  no  matter  how  much 
you  try  to  draw  them  into  conversation,  but  that  she  was 
vivacious  in  manner  and  free  of  tongiic.  She  was  like  a 
smart  man-of-war  cruiser,  well  provided  with  quick-firing 
batteries  and  small  arms ;  and  iwhen  we  sat  closely  chatting, 
she  fairly  overwhelmed  me  with  her  sallies  and  repartee. 
My  decks  were  completely  swept  and  I  had  to  lower  my 
flag  in  capitulation. 

As  soon  as  my  friend  and  I  were  outside  I  said  to  him, 
*  *  My  word,  that  girl  struck  me  hard ;  I  wonder  if  she  would 
go  .with  me  to  such-and-such  a  concert"  (where  I  used  to 
go  twice  a  week).  Under  the  pretense  that  he  had  for- 
gotten his  key  we  went  back  at  once,  and  I  managed  to  ex- 
tend the  invitation  to  her,  which  to  my  then  delight  she  ac- 
cepted. 

So  the  next  Friday  I  called  for  her  at  her  mother's 
house  and  found  her  dressed  divinely.  I  very  nearly  kiss- 
ed her  then  and  there,  but  by  some  amazing  effort  of  self- 
restraint,  managed  to  wait  until  we  got  home  again— by 

149 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

which  you  will  see  (the  last  fact  I  mean)  that  I  was  no 
laggard  in  love— nor  she  either. 

The  concerts  referred  to  were  held  in  the  winter  months 
and  were  really  magnificent.  The  instrumental  part  was 
provided  by  a  military  band  of  about  eighty  performers, 
all  of  them  professional  musicians,  with  perhaps,  about 
twenty-five  first  and  the  same  number  of  second  violins. 
And  all  this  for  the  small  sum  of  about  5  cents  for  admis- 
sion, when  tickets  were  taken  by  the  dozen. 

In  connection  with  the  splendid  concerts  mentioned  in 
this  chapter,  I  may  mention  an  incident  I  heard  of,  though 
I  did  not  actually  see  it. 

The  story  went  that  during  one  of  the  performances  a 
country-bumpkin,  who  was  present,  suddenly  clambered 
upon  the  platform  and  forcing  his  way  up  to  a  trombone 
player,  seized  and  pulled  right  out  the  sliding  part  of  the 
instrument,  to  the  intense  amazement  of  everybody  and 
most  of  all  the  player. 

When  the  latter  had  sufficiently  recovered  his  senses 
and  breath,  he  indignantly  rushed  at  the  countryman  to  re- 
cover his  detached  property  without  wasting  words;  but  the 
conductor,  or  somebody,  interfered  and  asked  the  yokel, 
''What  did  you  do  that  for?" 

With  a  cool,  self-satisfied  grin  the  rustic  replied,  **0h, 
that  fool  of  a  fellow  was  trying  ever  so  long  to  pull  that 
thing  out  of  his  trumpet,  and  I  thought  I  had  better  help 
him." 

As  I  have  already  plainly  enough  hinted,  my  new  girl 
and  I  had  a  most  satisfactory  evening  together.  She  was 
as  bewitching  and  agreeable  as  I  could  wish,  and  iwhen 
we  reached  her  mother's  house,  I  could  not  help  treating 
myself  to  a  most  enthusiastic  embrace,  which  was  a  suf- 
ficiently formal  invitation  of  a  courtship  extending  over 
two  years. 

Of  course  we  had  the  regulation  little  ''tiffs,"  not  few 
either,  with  the  usual  methods  of  "making  it  up"  again. 

One  day  I  told  her  I  would  not  be  able  to  call  on  a  cer- 
tain evening.  She  fired  up  at  once  with  jealousy,  accused 
me  of  all  sorts  of  deception  and  scheming,  pouted  and  cried, 

150 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

and  carried  on  in  the  most  unreasonable  but  therefore 
feminine  way. 

Nor,  as  it  turned  out,  her  obstinate  self-willed  little  head 
had  resolved  to  play  the  part  of  a  detective  upon  my  move- 
ments upon  the  evening  in  question,  and  she  carried  out  a 
daring  plan,  for 

* '  What  a  woman  wills,  she  will,  depend  on  it, 
And  what  she  iwon  't,  she  won 't,  and  there^'s  an  end  on  it. ' ' 

In  our  many  goings  to  and  fro  she  had  several  times 
met  and  had  become  friendly  with  my  landlady.  As  I 
discovered  afterwards,  Dora  had  gone  to  her  and  in  some 
way  got  permission  to  go  into  my  room  before  I  came  home 
on  that  particular  evening.  How  she  managed  that  I  don't 
exactly  know  or  cannot  remember;  but  at  all  events  she 
hid  herself  behind  the  curtain  of  my  wardrobe. 

When  I  came  home  I  lit  the  lamp,  sat  down  to  write,  and 
remained  so  doing  about  an  hour.  I  then  wanted  something 
from  a  pocket  of  a  garment  hanging  in  that  wardrobe,  and 
as  I  approached  that  place,  I  was,  for  a  moment,  rather 
startled  to  see  a  dainty  little  hand  thrust  out  playfully 
from  behind  the  curtain.  I  was  downright  angry,  and 
after  expressing  my  opinion  as  to  her  conduct  pretty 
sharply,  with,  of  course,  excuses  and  retorts  on  her  part, 
I  sent  her  home  to  her  mother. 

For  three  days  there  were  what  diplomatists  call  '  *  strain- 
ed relations'^  between  us;  but  on  the  fourth  morning,  as  I 
was  going  to  my  work,  she  contrived  to  meet  me  as  though 
by  accident,  and  her  pretty  penitence  and  those  pleading, 
yet  destructive  blue  eyes,  put  me  quite  ''out  of  action" 
and  once  more  I  had  to  haul  down  my  battle  flag  and  fol- 
loiw  in  her  wake. 

She  had  been  since  some  time  before  I  knew  her  a  mem- 
ber of  an  amateur  theatrical  troupe.  Her  mother  and  I 
went  by  invitation  to  an  entertainment  which  was  being 
given  by  them  about  this  time.  I  noticed  that  a  young  man 
who  was  one  of  these  amateur  actors  was  much  more  at- 
tentive to  my  fiancee  than  the  play  necessitated,  much 
more  than  I  liked  at  all  events,  though  she  did  not  seem 

151 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

to  encourage  him;  so  I  contented  myself  .witli  urging  her 
to  be  careful. 

He,  however,  was  so  smitten  by  her  attractiveness,  and, 
I  suppose,  by  the  pangs  of  jealousy,  that  he  took  to  follow- 
ing us  wherever  we  went  of  an  evening.  This  was  to  me 
at  least,  a  very  inconvenient  and  irritating  habit  of  his, 
so  one  evening  I  left  my  girl  standing  alone,  iwhile  I  walked 
back  about  ten  yards  or  so  to  exchange  such  civilities  with 
him  as  might  seem  necessary.  First,  I  rather  curtly  asked 
where  he  was  going.  He,  as  curtly,  replied  he  would  go 
where  he  liked.  I  quite  assented  to  this,  provided  it  did  not 
involve  his  following  my  lead  any  longer ;  he  was  welcome  to 
choose  his  own  direction  and  I  would  be  glad  to  know  which 
it  would  be  so  that  I  and  the  young  lady  could  take  the  op- 
posite one,  because  if  we  should  unfortunately  find  him 
behind  us  again  as  before,  I  felt  quite  positive  there  would 
be  a  fight.  He  seemed  to  fall  in  with  my  suggestion,  for 
he  went  off  at  a  tangent,  and  I  never  saw  him  playing 
shadow  to  me  again. 

I  iwish  now  that  she  had  jilted  me  for  him  or  that  I  had 
made  her  a  present  to  him,  or  even  that  he  could  have  knock- 
ed me  out  of  time  and  carried  her  off ;  if  he  had  done  so  he 
would  have  been  one  of  my  greatest  benefactors. 

So  far  as  I  can  see,  courtship  is  much  alike  everywhere 
—a  sort  of  crazy  patchwork  of  odds  and  ends  of  pleas- 
ures, rivalries,  jealousies,  trifling;  disappointments  and  vex- 
ations, tiffs,  and  the  like,  the  whole  herring-bone  stitched 
together  with  a  perfect  network  of  kisses  and  huggings. 

The  general  effect  is  not  bad,  and  if  you  take  reasonable 
care  of  it,  it  serves  a  very  useful  purpose  for  a  long  time 
after— it  is  a  neat  little  coverlet  of  romance  for  the  more 
simple  kind  of  matrimonial  bed.  But  some  people  get  care- 
less with  it  after  a  while— let  it  lie  kicking  about,  getting 
torn  and  soiled  till  it  loses  its  original  prettiness— and  I 
think  ladies  themselves  are  the  more  foolish  in  this  re- 
spect. 

For  instance,  when  babies  come,  all  former  things,  in- 
cluding this  once  prized  love-affair,  are  apt  to  be  cast  aside 


152 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

and  forgotten;  .whereas  it  would  be  far  wiser  to  keep  im- 
proving it  on  the  original  plan. 

Now,  no  matter  how  matter-of-fact  and  off-handed  a  man 
may  seem,  he  is  nearly  always  a  wonderfully  sentimental, 
and  sensitive  animal.  If  he  tires  of  his  wife  it  is  mostly 
because  he  did  not  recognize  in  her  the  girl  he  chose  from 
all  others.  She  undergoes  such  a  series  of  meta- 
niorphoses  of  every  kind— from  hat  or  bonnet  to  skirt- 
hem— that  he  can't  distinguish  her  from  Bessy  and  Mary 
Ann  and  Matilda  Jane  and  Gwendolen,— and  by  and  by 
any  one  of  these  would  do  just  as  well  as  his  chameleon 
* '  Duckie. ' '  When  dear  madam,  you  iwill  find  your  old 
"boy"  getting  seemingly  indifferent  and  erratic,  just  see 
if  you  can 't  hunt  up,  or  imitate,  the  garb  you  wore  on  the 
day  you  had  that  delightful  little  jaunt  together  to  that 
out-of-the-,way  little  nook— (you  know  where)— just  play- 
fully put  it  on  and  fix  your  hair  in  character  and  ask  if 
he  remembers  when  you  first  wore  that  dress  and  hat,  tak- 
ing care  to  give  him  one  of  your  old-time  glances.  If  his 
arm  is  not  instantaneously  where  that  dress  has  best  ac- 
commodation for  it,  and  if  he  does  not  contribute  other  nec- 
essary details  to  complete  the  reminiscence  then  this  author 
is  neither  self-experienoed  nor  a  judge  of  other  men. 

If  you  try  some  such  plan  with  success  you  may  blame 
yourself  entirely  if  you  have  not  wit  and  tact  to  keep  your 
captive. 

But  whatever  you  do  avoid  tiffs  and  causes  of  them 
aft^r  marriage ;  not  merely  jealousy,  but  coolness  and  neg- 
lect provoke  these  dangerous  little  games. 


153 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ON   COURTSHIP   PERILS,  AND   MY  MARRIAGE. 

If  I  take  the  reader  into  rather  candid  confidence  in 
this  chapter,  so  far  as  is  permissible,  I  trust  he  or  she  will 
credit  me  with  good  objects;  first,  adherence  to  truth,  sec- 
ond, but  of  at  least  equal  importance,  a  desire  to  hoist,  as 
it  were,  a  danger  signal  for  the  benefit  of  both  parents 
and  innocent  young  people. 

Notwithstanding  my  own  heedless  (waywardness  during 
my  earlier  manhood,  perhaps  in  part  because  of  it,  I  think 
there  is  a  great  deal  to  be  said  in  favor  of  the  older-fash- 
ioned formal  restrictions  upon  courting  couples— the  strin- 
gent domestic  regulations,  especially  as  regards  chaper- 
onage,  under  which  respectable  courtships  had  to  be  con- 
ducted. There  were  drawbacks,  no  doubt,  but  nothing  to 
be  compared  with  the  evils  arising  out  of  the  laxity  in  mod- 
ern customs  and  undue  freedom. 

Complaint  is  constantly  and  publicly  made  of  the  fall- 
ing off  in  the  marriage  rate,  and  many  reasons  are  assigned. 
I  think  I  could  put  my  finger  on  the  chief  cause  and  prove 
it  to  be  so,  if  space  would  permit;  as  it  does  not  permit  me 
to  do  the  latter  satisfactorily,  I  must  content  myself  with 
a  dogmatic  assertion  of  my  opinion. 

Here  it  is:  Young  men  see  too  much  of  young  women, 
both  generally  and  individually,  hear  too  much,  and  instead 
of  regarding  them  as  semi-divinities  in  moral  qualities  as 
well  as  in  personal  charms,  the  average  young  man  is  prim- 
ed with  doubts  and  suspicions ;  his  sense  of  caution  demands 
familiarity— familiarity  in  too  many  cases  produces  either 
contempt  or  the  evils  I  would  herein  point  out. 


154 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

I  know  that  feminine  ambitions  and  extravagance  and 
masculine  reluctance  to  accept  matrimonial  responsibilities 
count  for  a  good  deal  on  the  question,  but  in  my  firm  opin- 
ion nothing  like  that  I  have  previously  stated.  I  cannot 
enlarge  on  the  point,  unless  perhaps  to  the  extent  of  one 
further  short  contention. 

A  young  lady  is  never  so  beautiful  and  attractive  as 
when,  figuratively  speaking,  veiled  in  maidenly  modesty, 
self-respect,  and  something  of  mystery  and  inaccessibility. 
No  young  man  worth  his  salt  would  be  deterred  by  de- 
sirable precautions  in  protection  of  a  girl. 

My  own  case  is  both  an  illustration  of  and  a  .warning 
against  certain  wide-spread  dangers. 

A  wise  mother  would  have  insisted  upon  a  strict  ob- 
servance of  the  rules  of  prudent  propriety.  A  wise  and 
self-respecting  girl  would  have  been  willingly  obedient  to 
parental  wishes.  But,  as  is  common  between  recognized 
lovers,  my  sweetheart  and  I  iwere  permitted  or  seized  op- 
portunities for  a  great  deal  of  the  privacy  all  lovers  so 
delight  in.  This  is  dangerous  enough  with  the  most  high- 
principled  of  young  men ;  with  those  who  are  what  is  call- 
ed "fast"  or  "wild"  it  is  criminal  folly  for  the  natural 
guardians  of  the  young  lady  to  neglect  due  precautions, 
as  it  is  for  her  to  be  disobedient. 

I  say  unhesitatingly  that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases 
where  secret  meetings  or  interviews  occur,  sooner  or  later 
there  is  a  sudden  slipping  from  comparatively  innocent  en- 
dearment to  disastrous  consequences.  In  most  cases  it  is 
probably  unpremediated,  and  even  quite  unanticipated. 
It  is  simply  that  prudence  and  modesty  weaken  gradually 
until  woman's  noblest  trait  of  character;  her  readiness  to 
sacrifice  herself  for  the  sake  of  whoever  she  loves,  play  the 
traitor  to  her,  and  everything  but  irresistible  self-abandon- 
ment is  forgotten.  This  is  written  only  as  from  an  unseen 
friend  in  well-meant  warning  to  all  concerned.  Better  a 
little  such  than  irreparable  misery,  of  which  there  are  my- 
riads of  instances. 

Here,  however,  I  .would  add  that  in  my  opinion,  as  of 
many  I  know,  it  is  absurd  and  wrong  for  either  society  or 


155 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

parents  to  condemn  young  people  so  severely  as  they  do 
for  what  is  in  reality  the  fault  of  the  parent  protector ;  also 
that  I  think  it  practicable  to  considerably  amend  legisla- 
tion and  the  moral  code;  also  customs,  in  connection  with 
these  problems. 

Well,  the  almost  inevitable  consequence  of  free  and  easy 
courtship  precipitated  an  earlier  marriage  than  we  had  in- 
tended. I  managed  to  save  a  few  pounds  at  short  notice 
and  our  wedding  was  celebrated  iwith  considerable  style— 
I  wish  to  say,  "better  late  than  never."  The  officiating 
minister  told  me  that  he  had  operated  on  thirty  couples 
that  day  (Sunday)  ours  being  the  last;  I  cannot  help  won- 
dering how  many  turned  out  failures ! 

Perhaps  in  my  case  he  forgot  something,  or  his  hand 
was  not  steady  enough  to  tie  the  knot  securely.  It  was  the 
custom  for  the  minister  to  drink  to  each  bride's  health. 
An  assistant  minister  we  had  in  Ottensen  used  to  be  so 
overcome  by  his  conscientious  and  thorough  performance 
of  this  part  of  his  duties  (both  at  weddings  and  christen- 
ing) that  I  have  often  seen  him  after  visiting  a  number 
of  ** patients"  making  ludicrously  futile  efforts  to  step 
over  a  street  gutter,  only  to  finally  topple  into  it— and  stay 
there  till  someone  gave  him  a  lift  and  a  fresh  start.  The 
one  who  married  us  was  not  so  far  gone  as  that,  but  thirty 
nips  (unless  mere  ''sips")  must  have  told  some  tale. 

There  were  a  great  many  guests,  as  my  bride  had  a 
lengthy  invoice  of  relatives.  One  of  her  uncles  sent  five 
dozen  bottles  of  wine  and  the  necessary  liberal  supply  of 
lager-beer.  The  obsequies,  as  I  may  cynically  yet  truth- 
fully term  what  were  supposed  to  be  festivities,  lasted 
till  the  disreputable  hour  of  eight  o'clock  Monday  morning. 

I  loved  my  wife  very  dearly,  not  only  during  the  earlier 
years  of  our  married  life,  but  for  many  years  afterwards. 
But  I  must  let  my  narrative  unfold  in  proper  order.  Lest, 
however,  I  should  not  have  so  suitable  an  opening  later 
I  must  say  here  that  the  sum  total  of  my  Oiwn  experience 
of  married  life  is  that  ninety-nine  out  of  one  hun- 
dred marriages  are  failures.  What  with  this,  that, 
and     the     other     consideration,     marriage     has     become 

166 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

a  gamble  with  long  odds  against  you— as  bad  as  the  thimble 
rigging  and  three  card  tricks— a  good  deal  more  risky  than 
dice  or  Monte  Carlo  system.  As  to  faithfulness  and  devo- 
tion, I  think  married  women  show  a  much  poorer  average 
percentage  of  those  qualities  than  ladies  of  more  doubtful 
social  status,  though  there  are  bright  exceptions. 


t 


157 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


For  the  first  few  months  our  sky  was  fairly  serene,  the 
air  (generally)  full  of  music,  our  home  and  life  quite  a 
florist's  garden  of  varied  sweetness.  We  had  taken  apart- 
ments and  my  wife  with  the  housewifeliness  of  most  Ger- 
man girls  made  our  home  neatly  pleasant  and  attractive. 
The  home-coming  after  a  day's  work  was  something  de- 
lightful to  look  forward  to,  and  brightened  and  lightened 
the  toil  itself.  My  hands  and  tools  fairly  danced  to  my 
cheery  whistling  and  humming,  my  feet  would  not  keep 
from  jigs  and  horn  pipes.  My  former  bachelor  joys  waned 
dim  like  stars  before  sunrise.  The  new  close  companion- 
ship of  sweet  womanhood,  the  identity  of  all  interests,  the 
thousand  confidences,  the  evergrowing  tenderness  and 
thoughtful  little  attentions,  and  the  mutual  anticipations 
and  preparations  were  revelations  of  happiness  too  sacred 
to  describe  in  cold*  ink ;  in  fact,  they  are  indescribable. 
Could  married  life  always  be  so  it  would  be  an  incompar- 
able delight.  I  think  I  have  seen  a  few  rare,  very  rare, 
couples  iwith  families  growing  up  around  them  and  the 
instances  of  it  which  justify  Moore 's  few  inspired  lines : 

*' There's  a  bliss  beyond  all  that  the  minstrel  has  told, 

Where  two  that  are  linked  in  one  heavenly  tie. 
With  heart  never  changing,  and  brow  never  cold. 

Love  on  through  all  ills,  and  love  on  till  they  die. 
One  hour  of  a  passion  so  sacred  is  .worth 

Whole  ages  of  heartless  and  wandering  bliss. 
And  0,  if  there  be  an  Elysium  on  earth 

It  is  this,  it  is  this." 


158 


1 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

It  makes  my  brain  and  heart  ache  to  think  of  what  was 
and  what  still  might  have  been.  Could  we  have  had  but 
one  child  perhaps  all  might  afterwards  have  been  so  differ- 
ent with  us.  Since  that  time  I  have  felt  an  emptiness  of 
life,  an  intense  longing  for  the  joys,  (yes,  and  the  cares) 
and  .growing  interests  of  fatherhood.  I  have  nothing  now 
to  strive  for,  no  natural  noble  ambitions.  I  see  other 
parents  live  agiain  and  lose  themselves  in  their  children; 
they  pass  away  content  and  even  joyful.  What  are  such 
to  me  unrealized,  all  but  incomprehensible,  delight? 
Would  that  I  could  know  them ! 

Had  my  bride  and  I  but  had  a  son  or  a  daughter  to  pro- 
vide for  and  train  up,  surely  it  would  have  drawn  us  more 
closely  than  ever  together;  the  purer,  loftier  nature,  un- 
selfish, self-sacrificing  love  would  have  supplanted  the 
baser.  I  see  it  all  now;  our  miarriage  was  never  consum- 
mated in  the  fullest  and  only  true  sense — it  was  nothing 
more  than  a  civil  formality  .without  its  due  function.  My 
wedding  may  have  proved  a  failure,  but  I  know  nothing 
of  ''holy  marriage;"  I  cannot  prove  that  a  failure— only 
that  unripe  fruit  is  sour.  Nor  does  the  mere  fact  of  par- 
entage complete  marriage;  the  wedding  is  its  first  stage, 
parentage  its  second,  but  there  should  further  be  that  con- 
tinuous betterment  or  evolution  and  increase  which  seems 
a  supreme  universal  law  and  failing  which  there  is  deterior- 
ation and  destruction. 

I  have  given  these  confidences  and  reflections  chiefly  in 
the  hope  that  young  couples  and  lovers  who  may  peruse 
them  may  perhaps  glean  something  of  benefit,  if  it  only 
sets  them  thinking  seriously  and  loftily,  suggests  higher 
ideals,  and  prevents  matrimonial  suicide — "Prevention  is 
better  than  cure. "  If  I  cannot  speak  with  the  authority  of  a 
genuinely  happy  married  man,  I  can  at  least  with  the  bit- 
ter experiences  of  one  who  has  enjoyed  all  the  lower  pleas- 
ures of  love  and  missed  the  higher. 

Contrary  to  a  common  experience,  my  mother-in-law  and 
I  were  always  on  excellent  terms,  thougji  she  lived  with  us 
and  we  seldom  if  ever  went  anywhere  without  her.  She 
was  really  very  good  to  me  and  of  great  help  to  my  wife. 

159 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

The  usual  happenings  occurred  in  a  little  less  than  the 
time  strict  etiquette  required,  a  not  uneommon  phenome- 
non with  young  married  couples  of  a  seven  month's  child 
being  announced.  But  the  event  was  disastrous.  Notwith- 
standing the  assistance  of  a  properly  qualified  nurse  and  a 
doctor,  as  well  as  that  of  my  mother-in-law,  my  iwife  was 
in  a  most  critical  condition,  an  operation  had  to  be  per- 
formed and  in  consequence  the  child  died.  My  wife  was 
unable  to  leave  her  bed  for  six  months  and  for  a  long  time 
the  doctor  had  to  call  every  day — a  nice  handicap  and  out- 
look for  a  working  man  earning  from  thirty  to  forty  shil- 
lings a  week !  It  was  about  twelve  months  before  my  wife 
was  fairly  well,  and  worse  than  all  the  doctor  informed  her 
she  would  never  have  any  more  children,  and  she  never  did. 

She  was  as  yet  a  good-hearted  little  wife,  however,  and 
thought  she  would  like  to  earn  a  little  money  herself  to- 
wards our  common  interests.  She  opened  a  business  as 
dealer  in  second-hand  goods.  I  used  to  deliver  them  after 
coming  home  from  my  own  day.'s  work ;  so  I  had  a  pretty 
hard  time  of  it,  but  did  not  mind  that  as  I  was  anxious 
to  get  on  in  the  world,  and  on  the  whole  we  did  fairly  well 
for  a  time. 

But  the  business  was  in  my  mother-in-law's  name,  and  aa 
she  mostly  bought  on  credit  from  auctioneers  to  the  full 
extent  of  our  takings  (which  she  took  possession  of  and 
used  to  pay  for  those  investments)  there  was  no  direct  bene- 
fit to  us,  but  rather  some  leal^age  of  my  own  earnings.  I 
objected  to  her  system  of  business  and  in  the  end  suggested 
that  we  should  dissolve  partnership.  Accordingly,  my 
mother-in-law  opened  independently  a  little  further  up  the 
street  while  my  wife  and  I  carried  on  the  original  concern. 
Still  we  remained  on  quite  friendly  terms. 


160 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

SUNDRY  DISASTERS;   I   GAIN   EXPERIENCE. 

About  a  year  later  I  learned  from  my  wife  that  her 
mother  was  being  wooed  by  ' '  a  nice  maa. ' '  I  gave  my  opin- 
ion then  and  there  against  the  idea,  but  it  was  of  no  use, 
and  I  had  to  submit  to  an  introduction  with  or  without  what 
grace  I  could. 

He  was  a  big  hulking  fellow  of  about  thirty,  and  em- 
ployed in  a  brewery.  My  mother-in-law  was  about  forty- 
seven.  Fancy  a  woman  thinking  that  a  man  so  much 
younger  than  herself  wanted  to  marry  her  for  love !  But, 
perhaps  fortunately  for  us  men,  (most  iwomen  are  rather 
silly  creatures)— otherwise  how  many  of  us  would  get 
wives  at  all  ?  But  there,  I  am  giving  myself  away  badly— 
in  trying  to  speak  for  others.     ( ?) 

I  '^  button-holed "  the  mother,  as  the  saying  is.  I  took 
her  at  what  disadvantage  I  could— that  is,  while  her  mouth 
was  hampered  with  bread  and  butter  or  something  of  tliat 
sort  so  that  she  could  not  so  easily  answer  back.  I  led  oH 
with  what  diplomacy  I  had  at  conmiand,  I  reasoned  with 
her  as  though  she  had  been  some  rational  being  instead  of 
— a  woman  in  love  I  argued  up  and  down  and  aU  around ;  1 
delicately  touched  on  their  respective  ages  (perhaps  a  fatal 
blunder)  and  contended  that  he  only  had  an  eye  to  her 
business  and  supposed  money  (a  poor  compliment  on  my 
part)  and  that  his  aim  was  to  *'loaf ''  upon  her.  I  might 
as  well  have  reasoned  with  a  lamp-post;  better,  in  fact,  for 
while  a  lamp-post  iwill  at  least  let  you  have  your  say  out,  a 
woman  won't,  but  turns  on  you  like  a  wild-cat  and  (figura- 

161 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

lively)  brings  you  to  the  grass  with  the  amazing  skill  of  a 
Japanese  expert  in  * '  Jiu- Jitsu. "  Reason  is  nearly  always 
useless  in  dealing  with  a  woman,  never  more  useless  than 
when  marriage  is  in  question,  especially  if  her  own.  They 
would  marry  anything— except  perhaps  a  mouse— if  only 
their  minds  are  once  set  upon  an  object. 

She  was  as  certain  she  had  got  hold  of  a  good  bargain  as 
if  he  had  been  ticketed  in  a  draper's  window  at  2s.  ll^d.- 
so  she  had  him  tied  up  by  the  parson  and  carried  him  home 
(metaphorically,  of  course). 

A  month's  honeymoon  produced  in  him  such  a  passion  for 
home  that  he  wanted  to  leave  his  work  altogether  aid  sit 
all  day  with  her  behind  her  counter.  A  decided  change  in 
the  domestic  weather  then  took  place. 

To  crown  all,  the  astonished  bride  was  faced  with  a 
promisory  note  for  $20  in  favor  of  a  matrimonial  agent, 
which  note  she  had  neither  seen,  heard,  nor  dreamt  of  be- 
fore, but  for  which  she  was  legally  liable  all  the  same. 
Her  truly  "startling  bargain"  of  a  husband  had  given  the 
agent  the  promissory  note  for  the  introduction,  the  same 
to  be  paid  when  the  marriage  came  oif.  Now,  in  Germany 
both  husband  and  wife  are  each  equally  liable  for  all  debts 
whether  post-nuptial  or  ante-nuptial,  unless  they  have  made 
a  deed  of  separation  of  property  hefdre  marriage;  such  a 
deed  cannot  be  obtained  afterwards.  Therefore,  as  he  had 
nothing,  she  had  to  pay. 

Their  tiffs  were  about  as  noisy  as  two  night-watchmen 
with  their  rattles,  with  a  big  dog  and  a  few  cats  as  accom- 
paniment—and harder  things  than  words  were  apt  to  fly 
about.  So,  after  much  persuasion  by  my  wife,  her  mother 
permitted  us  to  shift  her  whole  stock  and  chattels  (and  her- 
self) to  our  place.  Within  about  twelve  months  of  the  wed- 
ding day  she  died.  Poor  silly  woman,  she  might  have 
lived  many  years  longer  had  she  been  more  cautioits  in  her 
second  matrimonial  venture,  or  remained  a  widow. 

Shortly  after  this  my  wealthy  old  great  aunt  also  died, 
in  her  ninety-third  year,  having  (as  I  said  before)  outlived 
her  second  husband  by  three  years.  Naturally  one  of  the 
staple  subjects  of  conversation  in  related  family  circles 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

had  for  a  long  time  been  the  prospective  dividends  from 
that  mine  to  the  preferential  scrip-holders.  She  left 
250,000  dollars,  but  ,what  with  several  big  legacies  to  insti- 
tutions as  well  as  to  individuals  and  the  long  list  of  re- 
lations interested  in  the  will,  very  little  came  to  me— 
about  $750.  I  was  more  than  disappointed— I  felt  that  my 
aunt  had  shown  a  grevious  lack  of  discrimination,  of  ap- 
preciation of  merit;  that  there  was  base  ingratitude  on 
her  part  for  my  having  left  her  and  her  cherry  trees  and 
cats  in  peace  for  so  many  years;  that  her  legacies  to  the 
distressed  kith  and  kin  of  the  said  cats,  for  invalid  dogs, 
for  supernuated  song-birds,  and  such-like  purposes  were 
downright  malfeasance— i worse  even  than  the  criminal 
waste  of  buns  upon  the  bear  at  the  zoo  over  ;which  my 
young  soul  had  often  grieved  when  a  boy. 

However,  I  thought  my  best  plan  was  to  try  to  make 
this  legacy  grow.  I  had  long  tired  of  factory  life  and  had 
a  desire  to  go  into  business  of  some  kind  for  myself.  The 
last  was  the  main  point— I  wanted  to  be  my  own  master; 
but  I  also  felt  that  enterprise  .was  necessary  in  order  to 
make  much  headway  in  the  world;  mere  wages  would  not 
do  it. 

But  knowing  very  little  about  business  in  the  general 
sense,  I  was  like  a  country  bumpkin  amongst  city  sharpers. 
Virtually  I  invited  all  the  confidence  tricksters  to  flock 
around  me  and  ''take  me  down"  by  advertising  for  a 
partnership  .  Replies  came  in  flocks  like  ravens  to  a  dead 
lamb.  This  is  always  the  case  if  you  have  money  to  lose. 
I  made  my  choice,  a  traveler  for  a  large  crockery  factory 
in  South  Germany.  His  patent  idea  was  a  .wholesale  crock- 
ery store  in  Hamburg,  and  he  threw  so  much  professional 
enthusiasm,  fluency  and  business  knowledge  into  his  advo- 
cacy of  the  scheme  that  I  felt  quite  ashamed  of  my  trifling 
contribution,  the  ready  money,  and  that  he  was  already 
my  benefactor  and  worthy  head  of  the  firm.  I  was  already 
a  millionaire— in  imagination  and  mannerisms,  jingling  my 
little  handful  of  loose  eash  with  careless  indifference— as 
though  it  were  a  mere  trifling  toy.  '  I  impressed  myself  if 
no  one  else. 


163 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

A  store  was  taken,  the  firm's  name  and  pretensions  were 
blazoned  in  bold  letters,  and  two  truckloads  of  crockery- 
were  duly  received  and  stocked  in  exchange  for  the  whole 
of  my  capital.  I  was  to  remain  in  charge  of  the  stock 
and  do  the  inside  work  (seemingly  fair  arrangement)  my 
partner  was  to  attend  to  the  outside  details,  for  which,  of 
course,  his  experienced  fitted  him. 

Well,  orders  came  in  right  enough  and  the  stock  rapid- 
ly emigrated ;  so  far  so  good,  but  there  was  a  hitch  some- 
twhere  or  other,  for  the  debtor  side  of  the  cash  account  lag- 
ged woefully  behind  the  credit  side  of  the  goods.  In  other 
words,  the  inflow  of  money  was  entirely  insufficient  to  re- 
plenish stock  and,  of  course,  the  profits  were  as  yet  impos- 
sible. Naturally,  I  made  critical  remarks,  and  my  part- 
ner responded  with  crushingly  fluent  business  logic. 

One  morning,  after  the  venture  had  been  staggering 
along  about  six  months,  on  arriving  in  the  lane  where  the 
store  was  situated  I  saw  a  crowd  and  a  fireman's  uniform 
about  opposite  our  place.  As  I  went  further,  a  woman 
who  kept  a  beer-house  asked,  "Don't  you  know  that  your 
store  was  burnt  down  last  night?"  I  at  once  suspected 
my  partner  of  being  the  cause. 

At  the  store  I  was  met  by  a  detective  who  invited  me  to 
inspect  the  place  in  his  company,  there  being  suspicious 
facts  in  view.  The  building  itself  was  not  very  greatly 
damaged  and  we  were  able  to  go  upstairs.  An  iron  hang- 
ing lamp  which  had  been  over  my  desk  was  lying  in  a  cor- 
ner thirty  yards  away  where  we  had  kept  our  packing 
straw.  It  was  plain  enough  that  the  string  by  iwhich  it 
had  been  suspended  had  been  cut  and  the  lamp  thrown 
or  placed  where  it  was  found;  but  I  could  not  give  any 
definite  information  about  it. 

A  little  later  my  partner  arrived  vehemently  talking 
all  round  him ;  bewailing  our  losses,  complaining  that  when 
the  neiws  reached  him  the  shoek  all  but  killed  him  (and  his 
confidential  dog.  He  fired  questions  at  everybody,  played 
detective  himself  and  pretended  to  find  wonderful  clues, 
suggested  all  possible  -theories  but  the  right  one— and  in 
short  managed  to  keep  nearly  all  the  talking  to  himself— 

164 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

and  avoid  awkward  questions  by  a  show  of  nervous  ex- 
citement. 

There  was  an  investigation  before  a  magistrate.  My  ir- 
reproachable character,  and  there  being  visible  no  reason- 
able motive  on  my  part,  cleared  me  (notwithstanding  a  sus- 
picious fact  given  below),  it  being  shown  that  I  had  much 
more  to  lose  than  to  gain  by  the  fire;  but  my  partner  was 
sent  up  for  trial  on  the  double  charge  of  arson,  and  em- 
bezzling the  money  of  the  firm.  The  first  charge  failed  for 
lack  of  conclusive  evidence,  but  he  was  convicted  for  em- 
bezzlement and  sentenced  to  six  month's  imprisonment. 
It  was  proved  that  he  had  collected  all  the  money  he  could 
due  to  the  firm,  and  had  not  paid  it  in.  The  "outside" 
work  suited  his  little  game  very  nicely.  It  iwas  a  neat  var- 
iety of  the  confidence  trick.  The  goods  iwere  bought  with 
my  money  and  for  a  time  were  under  my  personal  charge ; 
but  as  they  were  sold  he  quietly  took  charge  of  most  of 
their  value  in  hard  cash. 

Now  for  the  suspicion  against  myself.  It  will  serve  to 
show  how  easily  circumstantial  evidence  may  tell  against 
a  man,  and  perhaps  land  him  in  a  nasty  position. 

The  day  before  the  fire  my  partner  had  gone  on  one  of 
his  rounds.  As  he  had  not  returned,  as  he  should  have 
done,  before  closing  time  (six  o'clock)  I  felt  a  bit  uneasy; 
but  locked  up  and  iwent  home— three  miles  away— as  my 
wife,  mother-in-law,  and  I  had  been  invited  to  a  relative's 
for  that  evening  to  celebrate  a  birthday.  But  after  tea  my 
uneasiness  had  so  increased  that  I  sent  my  wife  and  mother- 
in-law  on  by  themselves,  while  I  returned  to  examine  the 
store  and  to  see  whether  my  partner  had  called  there.  I 
found  it  secure  and  feel  sure  there  twas  nothing  that  could 
have  accidently  caught  fire.  I  then  had  a  glass  of  beer  at 
the  place  kept  by  the  woman  who  next  morning  was  the 
first  to  tell  me  of  the  fire.  In  reply  to  enquiries,  she  told 
me  that  my  partner  bad  not  called  at  her  place,  nor  had 
she  seen  him  at  all.  It  was  about  half -past  nine,  and  about 
fifteen  minutes  later  the  fire  broke  out,  so  that  things  did 
look  awkward  for  me.     But  an  incendiary  would  hardly 


165 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

be  foolish  enough  to  give  proof  of  his  presence  in  the  vi- 
cinity just  before  the  fire. 

After  the  investigation  the  magistrate  said  to  me,  "You 
should  have  consulted  me  about  him  before  you  accepted 
him  as  partner;  I  could  have  told  you  what  he  was.  But 
I  suppose  you  bad  only  the  money  while  he  had  the  ex- 
perience; and  now  he's  got  the  money  and  you've  got  the 
experience?"  My  reply  .was  simply,  "Yes,  that's  about 
it." 

I  received  about  £5  from  the  insurance  company,  and 
so  ended  my  first  business  venture,  or  rather  the  first  stag'' 
of  it,  for  a  new  firm  arose,  Phoenix-like  from  the  defunct 
one.  The  business  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  an  official 
liquidator,  with  whom  I  already  had  som^  acquaintance. 
He  being  satisfi-ed  with  the  business  itself,  put  some  money 
into  it,  so  becoming  my  sleeping  partner,  for  it  was  carried 
on  in  my  name— his  official  position  barring  him.  So  in 
this  second  stage  I  found  the  experience  (though  with  a 
balance  of  former  stock  also)  and  my  partner  the  money; 
this  was  better. 

But  unforeseen  misfortunes  awaited  us.  I  will  give  two 
instances. 

We  took  a  cellar  in  a  narrow  street  tranversed  by  a  canal. 
It  was  .winter  time.  A  wagon-load  of  brown-ware  coffee 
pots  was  delivered.  The  roads  being  slipperly  with  ice 
and  hard  snow  the  w^agon  wheels  had  skidded  sideways  on 
the  curved  surface  of  the  road  and  jolted  badly  against 
the  curbing— a  common  and  unavoidable  occurrence.  The 
ware  was  very  badly  damaged  by  the  jolting— about  120 
out  of  500  had  the  handles  knocked  off,  to  say  nothing  of 
other  damages,  and  we  had  to  stand  the  loss. 

Another  time  ,we  had  a  large  general  stock  in  the  cellar, 
which  got  flooded  by  the  overflowing  of  the  canal.  I  did 
not  trouble  much  about  this,  (after  the  cellar  itself  was 
drained)  thinking  water  could  not  damage  crockery  ware; 
but  I  had  still  some  experience  to  gain.  A  hard  frost  set 
in  and,  of  course,  the  water  still  in  our  pots,  jugs,  and  so 
on  became  solid  ice.  One  day  a  few  weeks  later  I  was 
amazed  to  hear  an  irregular  volley  of  explosions  in  the 

166 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

cellar,  and  on  making  an  inspection  I  found  the  stock  ly- 
ing in  fragments  in  all  directions  and  explosions  still  pro- 
gressing merrily.  A  thaw  had  set  in  and  I  suppose  the  ice 
by  first  expanding  somewhat  before  actually  liquifying  had 
split  and  shattered  nearly  everything  in  which  it  was  con- 
tained.   So  that  stock  was  a  dead  loss. 

After  struggling  on  for  some  time  I  told  my  partner 
that  the  business  was  not  paying  and  I  thought  we  had 
bet'ter  get  out  of  it  at  once.  He  took  the  matter  very  philo- 
sophically. * '  Oh,  that 's  all  right, ' '  he  said,  * '  collect  all  the 
money  you  can  and  pay  it  in  to  me  as  official  liquidator 
and  I  will  wind  up  the  business  in  the  proper  way."  The 
'* proper  iway"  of  course  provided  for  ''official"  charges 
first,  and  I  have  little  doubt  my  partner  saw  that  that 
particular  creditor  was  secured. 

He  wanted  to  get  me  a  billet  as  policeman,  but  my  wife 
objected  to  the  idea. 

I  therefore  returned  to  employment  in  my  own  trade 
for  a  time. 


I 


167 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

A  FAVORITE  GERMAN  SPORT. 

The  British  pride  themselves  on  being  a  sport-loving  peo- 
ple, and  so  they  are.  But  I  have  been  surprised  at  finding 
that  amongst  their  many  varieties  of  sport  they  have  no 
dog-racing,  which  is  in  my  opinion  one  of  the  most  excit- 
ing and  mirth-provoking  sports  known. 

Partly  for  this  reason  and  partly  because  one  of  my  aims 
in  this  book  is  to  give  some  insight  into  German  life  and 
customs,  I  will  try  to  give  a  realistic  idea  of  it. 

Some  fine  morning  we  find  ourselves  amongst  gay 
croiwds  of  people  thronging  the  streets  of  Hamburg  on  their 
way  to  the  open  country  near  by.  A  friend  of  ours,  whom 
we  will  call  Vogel,  is  with  us  and  leading  a  dog— not  much 
to  look  at  perhaps,  except  as  regards  size— a  rather  big, 
lank,  heavy-looking  beast  of  no  particular  breed  or  pedigree 
—more  wolf -like  than  anything,  and  for  this  reason 
**Wolf "  is  its  name.  Here  and  there  in  the  crowd  miscel- 
laneous other  dogs  are  being  led  by  their  careful  masters, 
and  now  and  again  a  brightly  painted  and  gaily  bedecked 
little  carriage  or  cart  dashes  by,  draiwn  by  a  large  dog 
(usually  a  Newfoundland)  and  with  a  little  boy,  perhaps  in 
fancy  costume,  driving. 

On  arriving  at  our  destination  we  find  a  long,  straight 
course  of,  I  should  say,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  or  perhaps 
two  miles  in  lengtli  (trusting  to  memory)  carefully  railed 
off.  There  is  a  large  concourse  of  people,  and,  naturally 
some  canvas  marquees  and  booths  where  the  inevitable 
lager  beer,  and  wines,  lemonade  and  everything  else  adult 

168 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

and  juvenile  appetites  crave  for  can  be  obtained  at  fre- 
quent intervals. 

The  air  is  cheerfully  noisy  with  popping  of  corks,  chat- 
ting and  laughter,  a  good  band  of  music,  and  sundry  in- 
dependent instruments  (including  those  of  Punch  and 
Judy  and  similar  small  shows),  the  cries  of  betting  men, 
and  the  almost  incessant  barking  of  a  multitude  of  dogs. 
The  scene  is  not  unlike  that  at  some  great  horse  race 
meeting. 

Military  uniforms  are,  of  course,  very  plentiful,  as  are 
also  sailors  of  various  rank  and  garb ^^  and  very  few  indeed 
of  these  sons  of  Mars  and  of  Neptune  are  without  at  least 
one  lady  companion  arm  in  arm  with  them.  Many  of  the 
sailors,  in  fact,  have  quite  a  small  fleet  of  such  companions 
under  their  convoy — or,  rather,  towing  the  jovial  sailor 
himself  around  to  the  numerous  attractions,  with  even 
more  noisy  commotion  than  so  many  steam  tugs. 

Young  couples  in  hundreds  if  not  thousands  are  saunter- 
ing about,  for  this  is  one  of  their  great  holiday  opportuni- 
ties; and  young  pirates  of  both  sexes  are  on  the  lookout 
for  satisfactory  prizes  to  capture.  But  space  forbids  dwell- 
ing on  such  details ;  our  business  is  with  the  racing. 

Separate  races  are  provided  for  different  breeds  or  classes 
of  dogs,  for  carriages  drawn  by  dogs,  and  most  amusing  of 
all,  one  or  more  ''obstacle  races.'' 

The  animals  are  very  carefully  trained,  and  plainly 
evince  a  keen  and  intelligient  interest  in  the  events  they  are 
respectively  engaged  in. 

At  the  starting  place  there  is  a  long  dog-box  or  kennel 
(containing  several  compartment)  reaching  right  across 
that  end  of  the  course,  each  compartment  being  closed  by 
an  iron  grating  in  front,  the  whole  of  which  can  be  lifted 
simultaneously  by  means  of  a  lever.  When  the  race  is 
about  to  start,  you  can  see  the  dogs  in  the  various  com- 
partments eagerly  watching  the  grating  (as  a  rat-terrier 
does  the  opening  of  a  trap  with  a  rat  inside)  and  waiting 
for  the  grating  to  rise.  The  moment  it  does  so  they  are.  off, 
just  like  so  many  racehorses,  and  the  general  excitement 
is  just  as  keen. 

169 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

For  an  obstacle  race,  besides  rough  hurdles  or  branches 
and  twigs  and  such  devices,  there  are  suspended  at  inter- 
vals across  the  course  three  or  four  stout  strings  or  cords 
from  which  hang  lumps  of  meat,  sausages,  fish,  dead  fowls 
and  birds,  and  such  likely  temptations  to  canine  palates. 

Our  friend  Vogel's  *'Wolf "  is  entered  for  this  race  and 
in  due  time  takes  his  place  willingly  enough  in  one  of  the 
kennel  compartments.  The  other  competitors  are  a  good 
many  sorts  and  sizes;  for  speed  and  strength  are  by  no 
means  the  most  necessary  qualities  in  such  a  contest ;  train- 
ing and  intelligence  count  most.  Knowing  this,  some  of 
the  owners  or  trainers  have  fairly  loaded  their  dogs  to 
their  muzzles  with  meat  and  other  dainties  likely  to  be  met 
with  en  route  so  as  to  minimize  the  effect  of  manifold 
temptations  that  will  beset  their  dogs  during  the  time  of 
trial.  Really  the  event  is  quite  a  m-oral  object  lesson— if 
you  choose  to  search  for  one. 

The  crowd  lines  up  to  the  rails  in  eager  anticipation, 
and  the  owners  dispose  themselves  in  favorable  positions 
to  enable  them  to  encourage  or  threaten  their  own  animals 
as  occasion  may  require.  A  few  of  the  spectators  have 
provided  themselves  with  surprise  obstacles  in  the  shape  of 
live  rats,  rabbits,  and  perhaps  a  hare  or  two  with  which 
to  distract  from  the  stern  path  of  duty  the  dogs  who  are 
proof  against  the  common  obstacles. 

Amidst  wild  clamor  and  hearty  laughter,  at  last  the  sig- 
nal is  given,  the  gratings  raised,  and  the  dogs  are  off— 
pell-mell  scramble,  the  contestants  barking,  and  snarling, 
and  snapping  at  each  other;  for  some  of  the  more  cunning 
are  full  of  mischievious  tricks  to  disconcert  antagonists. 
The  owners'  trainers  and  spectators  shout  and  whistle,  and  a 
number  of  pranks  are  played.  At  the  first  hedge  a  grey- 
hound is  over  first  with  one  clear  bound,  but  a  small  ter- 
rier has  found  a  small  opening  through  which  he  dashes 
just  in  time  to  snap  at  one  of  his  long-legged  rival's  hind 
legs.  The  latter  turns  in  sudden  anger  and  the  terrier 
darts  past  him  like  a  flash.  Somebodj^  lets  loose  a  rat, 
throwing  it  well  in  front  of  the  dogs,  and  the  terrier  and 
one  or  two  others  simply  cannot  resist  their  instinct  to 

170 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

chase  it.  But  voices  and  flourished  whips  recall  them  to 
their  duty. 

At  the  first  line  of  eatables  a  few  competitors  comg  to 
grief  and  shame,  for  though  most  of  them  might  remember 
not  to  touch  the  tempting  morsels  iwhile  hanging  on  the 
string,  being  trained  to  that,  they  cannot  stand  seeing 
another  dog  with  one  of  the  very  best  items  in  his  mouth 
and  coolly  tearing  it  to  shreds;  they  try  to  rescue  some  of 
it  and  in  no  time  there  is  a  furious  fight  between  some  of 
the  dogs,  and  one  or  two  limp  out  of  the  race  altogether 
with  drooping  tail  and  guilt  and  fear  stricken  faces,  and 
spend  the  rest  of  the  day  keeping  out  of  sigh.t  of  their 
angry  masters. 

So,  all  along!  the  course  there  are  comic  laughter-pro- 
voking incidents,  till  only  half  a  dozen  dogs  are  left  run- 
ning. One  of  these  is  our  friend's  Wolf,  for  he  is  both 
fast  and  reliable ;  but  the  greyhound,  who  has  regained  lost 
ground  is  ahead  of  him.  Suddenly  a  hare  scurries  across 
the  course  almost  under  the  greyhound's  nose  and  before 
the  latter  can  collect  his  wits  he  has  darted  to  one  side  after 
his  accustomed  quarry,  leaving  Wolf  a  pretty  clear  field. 

Now,  as  long  as  his  diffiulties  were  in  front,  Wolf  kept 
his  head  very  iwell;  but  he  knows  that  there  is  a  speedy 
little  animal  close  up  and  every  now  and  then  striving  to 
reach  his  heels.  The  owners  and  spectators  are  by  this  time 
frantic;  and  Wolf,  deafened  by  the  noise,  and  worried  to 
know  just  where  that  dangerous  rival  is,  turns  his  head 
round  to  look  for  the  latter,  who,  as  if  fully  expecting  and 
watching  for  this,  seizes  the  opportunity  of  Wolf's  slack- 
ened pace  to  dart  by  on  the  opposite  side  just  in  time  to 
win,  and  our  Wolf  has  to  take  the  second  prize  with  what 
grace  he  can.  That  grace  is  very  little,  for  evidently 
realizing  his  own  folly,  he  slinks  about  with  very  downcast 
tail  and  air,  and  makes  one  or  two  vicious  efforts  to  get  a 
short  interview  with  his  more  successful  competitor;  who, 
hoiwever,  is  much  too  wise  to  reopen  the  question,  and  is 
led  off  by  his  master. 

The  dog-carriage  events  are  also  very  attractive  and 
often  funny.     But  as  the  large  dogs   (mostly  Newfound- 

171 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

lands  and  St.  Bernards)  which  draw  these  vehicles  are  us- 
ually savage  and  liable  to  attack  each  other  they  are  kept 
apa^t  by  means  of  temporary  fences  along  and  dividing 
the  whole  course.  The  boy  drivers  often  show  much  skill, 
though  now  and  then  there  is  a  capsize. 

The  Dachshunds  (who  seem  as  if  they  need  an  extra  pair 
or  tiwo  of  legs)  and  the  poodles  also  by  their  waddling 
gait  cause  a  good  deal  of  fun. 


172 


PART    II 

MY  FIRST  EMIGRATION  AND  LIFE  AS  A  SAILOR. 


i 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"Be  not  like  dumb,  driven  cattle. 

Be  a  hero  in  the  strife." — Longfellow. 

Day  after  day,  year  in,  year  out— unless  when  the  river 
was  blocked  with  ice — the  streets  and  the  wharves  of  Ham* 
burg  and  Altona  were  fairly  littered  with  travellers  of 
every  description  from  or  bound  to,  all  parts  of  the  world. 

Most  noticeable  amongst  those— swarming  everywhere 
in  twos  and  threes,  in  dozens,  in  scores,  in  some  places  in 
hundreds,— were  parties  of  emigrants  to  America  and  dis- 
tant Australia. 

Strange  indeed  were  some  of  the  doings  and  sights 
amongst  these  emigrants. 

Near  one  of  the  principle  quays  was  a  large  hotel  much 
patronized  by  them.  It  was  a  four-decker  edifice  and  the 
scale  of  charges  corresponded  with  your  elevation  therein 
—the  nearer  heaven,  the  higher  also  the  tariff  and  vice 
versa,  so  that  to  this  extent  at  least  the  management  was 
in  strict  accord  with  orthodox  church  principles.  On  the 
^'steerage"  deck,  below  ground,  a  bunk  similar  to  those  on 
ship-board  could  be  obtained  for  about  3d. ;  but  even  this 
was  not  the  bedrock  rate,  for  in  the  outer  darkness  and  cold 
of  a  long  narrow  side  passage  or  alley  the  poorest,  or  most 
thrifty,  of  the  pilgrims  could  find  a  few  hour's  snooze  for 
about  one  penny,  This  passage-way  was  an  interesting 
peep-show  any  time  between,  say,  midnight  and  early 
dawn.  Seated  on  forms  placed  along  the  two  opposite  iwalls 
imagine  two  tightly  packed  rows  of  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren of  all  ages,  except  extreme  infancy,  sitting  with  their 
bodies  leaning  forward  against  and  supported  by  a  tightly 

176 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

streched  rape  extending  from  one  end  of  the  human  line 
to  the  other,  their  arms  hooked  and  folded  over  the  rope 
so  as  to  afford  some  security  from  slipping;  heads  mostly 
resting  on  the  arms  and  mouths  more  or  less  agape  and 
emitting  a  -guttural  chorus  of  sleep  music.  (?)  Yet  ever 
here  in  this  grotesque  company  pathetic  touches  of  human 
tenderness  and  affection  are  visible,— a  young  wife  half 
supported  by  her  stalwart  husband's  arm,  her  head  upon 
his  shoulder;  two  or  three  infants  resting  hammockwise 
in  a  shawl  suspended  from  the  mother 's  neck  or  shoulder ; 
children  nestling  together  or  against  their  parents.  Poor 
creatures,  some  going  to  harder  privations  and  death,  a 
few  to  fortune,  perhaps. 

But  the  porter  of  the  hotel  is  not  overloaded  with  senti- 
ment— except  as  practical  joking  can  afford.  Being  of 
necessity  an  early  riser  himself  he  has  no  sympathy  for 
lazy  lie-abeds  (unless  rich  enough  likely  to  be  good  for 
"tips")  but  he  is  a  conscientious  fellow  enough— anxious 
to  ''do  as  he  would  be  done  by"— and  therefore  distributes 
*'tips"  himself s  by  a  very  simple  process.  He  quietly  un- 
fastens one  end  of  the  ropes  and  lets  them  go  suddenly. 
The  unfortunate  sleepers,  of  course,  mostly  have  an  abrupt 
impression  of  ''getting  up"  downwards  and  in  too  much 
of  a  hurry. 

Every  now  and  again  word  iwould  come  of  the  wonderful 
success  of  some  relative  or  acquaintance,  some  former 
school-fellow  or  workmate  who  had  gone  to  one  of  the  far- 
away lands. 

Now  and  then  you  would  meet  one  of  these  lucky  ones 
who  had  returned  iwith  all  the  outward  evidences  of  pros- 
perity ;  you  would  know,  or  hear  of,  some  once  poor  hard- 
toiling  man  or  woman  who  had,  with  riches  won  in  those 
distant  new  lands  purchased  estates  in  their  own  native 
country,  and  now  lived  in  luxury  and  fashionable  society. 

Now  that  sort  of  thing  is  "catching;"  at  least  the  first 
feverish  symptoms  are.  It  is  all  very  well  to  be  willing 
to  work  and  to  "look  labor  boldly  in  the  face"— I  have 
never  shirked  either,  but  I  make  no  bombastic  pretense  of 

176 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


being"  such  a  hide-bound  imbecile  as  to  prefer  life-long  hard 
work  for  little  more  than  nothing  a  day  to  as  large  a  meas- 
ure of  prosperity  as  can  be  obtained  for  the  least  expendi- 
ture of  time  and  labor. 

Work  I  always  had  and  could  easily  get  at  any  time,  so 
long  as  I  was  young  and  strong  enough.  But  I  wanted 
some  provision  for  later  years,  and  now  at  the  age  of  fifty 
I  can  thank  God  and  my  own  efforts  that  I  am  able  to 
live  in  comfort  without  having  to  work  for  it. 

I  first  decided  to  try  the  United  States  or  Canada  where 
at  that  time  there  was  ample  scope  for  many  millions, 
and  good  immigrants  were  welcomed.  In  fact,  I  had  ac- 
tually packed  up  my  box  and  paid  ten  shillings  deposit  on 
a  ticket  to  New  York,  but  abandoned  my  plan  and  the  de- 
posit through  the  persuasion  of  my  wife  and  her  relations. 

Tliis  was  a  very  unwise  thing  to  do,  for  a  man  with  a 
judgment  and  will  of  his  own  ought  not  to  easily  set  aside 
any  project,  nor  can  he  easily  do  so  once  his  mind  is  fixed 
upon  it,  though  it  is  only  right  of  course  that  a  good  wife's 
opinion  and  feelings  should  have  their  due  weight. 

Restless  still,  my  attention  was  turned  to  Brazil  through 
a  woman  with  whom  we  had  made  acquaintance  who  had 
been  in  that  country  in  her  younger  days  and  gave  most 
glowing  accounts  of  it.  She  and  her  husband  were  arrang- 
ing to  go  there  with  their  three  children,  he  giving  up  a 
good  position  as  manager  in  a  tobacconist's  shop  to  do  so. 

On  making  enquiry  at  the  Brazilian  Colonization  office  in 
Hamburg  I  found  that  a  passage  as  an  assistant  emigrant 
would  cost  £3,  5s.  (about  half  ordinary  rates)  I  decided 
to  seize  the  oportunity,  leaving  my  wife  to  carry  on  her 
little  business  till  I  could  send  her  money  either  to  go  also, 
or  support  her,  as  might  seem  best.  Though  the  profits 
of  her  business  were  comparatively  small  they  were  suffi- 
cient to  provide  her  with  a  living.  But  I  must  confess 
that  as  neither  of  us  were  afflicted  with  economy  I  found 
some  difficulty  in  scraping  together  my  passage  money. 
However,  by  heroic  efforts  this  was  accomplished,  prepara- 
tions made,  and  at  last  my  berth  booked  by  a  regular 
st-eamer. 

177 


CHAPTER  XXXV.' 

MY    DISCREDITABLE    FATHER-IN-LAW. 

I  must  now  introduce  to  you  somebody  whom  I  have  so 
far  studiously  and  tactfully  kept  well  out  of  sight— not 
(this  time)  as  you  may  not  unwarrantably  infer  from  my 
past  record  and  my  present  movements  something  attrac- 
tive but  contraband  in  flowing  skirts— but  still  a  type  of 
person  you  are  not  very  anxious  to  publicly  promenade 
with— you  feel  more  at  ease  when  they  are  well  out  of  sight 
somewhere — lost  in  remote  background  as  it  were. 

This  individual,  however,  was  not  at  all  easy  to  keep  out 
of  sight  (unless  he  himself  wished  it— which  fortunately 
in  one  sense  was  pretty  often)  for  he  was  normally  a  very 
conspicuous  personage — a  handsome  man  of  medium  height 
and  age,  thick  curly  hair,  a  long  military  looking  mous- 
tache, keen  mocking  blue  eyes,  and  these  natural  advan- 
tages emphasized  by  a  black  velvet  coat,  patent  leather 
boots,  and  all  the  other  paraphernalia  of  a  gorgeous  dandy 
—that  paraphernalia  including  a  supercilious  fastidious- 
ness of  voice  and  maner,  a  lanquid  draw,  yet  withal  a 
dash  of  dare-devil  recklessness  and  good  nature— an  ingra- 
tiating, dangerous  sort  of  a  man — especially  (With  the 
ladies.  He  was  a  "ne'er-do-well,"  a  scapegrace,  ^nd— he 
was  my  father-in-law !    How  could  this  be. 

Many  years  before,  my  wife's  mother  had  for  sufficient 
reasons  obtained  a  divorce  from  him;  he  had  married 
again  and  now  he  had  a  second  family,  though  he  seemed 
all  but  unconscious  of  this  slight  addition  to  his  miscel- 
laneous responsibilities  in  that  line— as  indeed  he  was  of 


178 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


responsibilities  of  any  kind  whatever.  Debt  seemed  to  be 
his  native  element  so  rarely  iwas  he  out  of  it,  yet  he  had 
a  really  first-class  business  as  a  fashionable  hairdresser  and 
wigmaker— or  rather,  he  had  an  endless  succession  of  such 
businesses,  say  an  average  of  one  or  two  per  annum  for 
Quarter-Day  invariably  found  him  hopelessly  stranded  for 
rent  and  unless  as  sometimes  happened  his  brother  or  some 
other  friend  tided  him  over  the  shoal  for  the  time  being, 
he  and  his  chattels  were  either  summarily  evicted  or,  more 
often,  fugitives  from  legal  "destraint. "  As  to  butchers 
bakers,*  and  other  creditors  of  that  kind,  I  fancy  that  only 
a  few  of  the  more  energetic  and  persevering  ever  got  any- 
thing more  substantial  than  dishonored  promissory  notes 
from  him. 

At  last,  however,  he  was  completely  cornered.  His  most 
relentless  pursuers  had  run  him  to  earth  and  bombarded 
him  with  writs.  For  business  purposes  he  had  taken  only 
a  shop  and  a  room,  the  landlord  living  on  the  premises.  As 
usual,  my  father-in-laiw  was  in  default  with  his  rent  on  the 
very  first  quarter-day,  and  the  conventional  formulae  on 
both  sides  in  such  unpleasant  cases  had  been  punctiliously 
carried  out  with  much  soreness  of  spirit— though  chiefly, 
I  think,  on  the  landlord's  part. 
E  The  latter  was  one  of  these  big-made,  stout,  hot  tem- 
Ppered  men  who  can  make  things  uncommonly  sultry  when 
they  want  to.  He  managed  to  convince  his  tenant  that 
rent  must  be  quickly  forthcoming  or  that  he,  the  landlord, 
would  seize  the  shop  furniture  and  fittings  and  that  mean- 
time he  would  establish  a  blockade  over  the  shop  and  its 
contents  that  the  latter  would  have  a  very  poor  chance  of 
*'flittin«f."  He,  in  fact,  insisted  on  the  iwhole  rent  by  a 
fixed  date. 

But  by  father-in-law  was  a  man  of  much  resource.  He 
had  already  given  some  attention  to  the  possible  desirability 
of  leaving  his  complicated  affairs  and  betaking  himself  to 
some  country  beyond  the  seas;  he  now  decided  to  carry 
out  this  project  and  accompany  me  and  a  few  other  ac- 
quaintances to  Brazil.  By  some  means  from  his  long-suf- 
fering brother  (or  else  a  wealthy  nephew-in-law),  and  with 

179 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

a  part  of  this  he  negotiated  with  his  landlord  for  i\wo  or 
three  week's  extension  of  grace.  With  some  of  the  balance 
he  purchased  a  ticket  by  the  same  vessel  that  I  had  booked 
for. 

Meantime  that  grimly  resolute  landlord  kept  ceaseless 
watch  from  his  own  window,  (for  he  lived  on  the  floor 
above  the  shop)  upon  the  shop  door  to  prevent  the  fittings 
from  being  spirited  away.  He  knew  his  tenant  was  a  slip- 
pery customer.  When  he  was  not  personally  on  this  senti- 
nel duty,  his  daughter  or  some  other  member  of  his  family 
always  took  his  place.  But  generally  he  was  there  him- 
self placidly  smoking,  his  long  pipe  and  refreshing  himself 
with  the  inevitable  glass  of  lager-beer.  It  certainly  looked 
as  though  my  father-in-law  was  checkmated  at  last. 

The  day  before  we  were  to  go  on  board  ship  my  father- 
in-law  took  me  into  his  confidence  and  asked  my  help  to 
rescue  him  and  what  he  considered  as  still  his  property. 
His  plan  seems  to  prove  that  he  had  at  least  a  smattering 
of  classical  history,  as  you  will  see  for  yourselves  if  you 
have  likewise — if  not  it  does  not  much  matter.  At  all 
events  it  so  tickled  the  natural  love  of  "fun"  in  myself 
and  a  few  ship-mates  whom  I  asked  to  join  that  (with  some 
unnatural  sympathy  for  an  acquaintance  in  desperate 
straits)  we  promised  our  assistance. 

Accordingly,  that  evening  those  who  were  in  the  plot 
one  by  one  and  at  fair  intervals  drifted  into  the  shop,  some 
openly  enough  as  though  ordinary  customers  going  in  for 
a  shave  or  a  "hair  cut,"  others  who  perhaps  might  be  more 
open  to  suspicion  keeping  out  of  sight  until  the  landlord 
— who  was  at  his  customary  post— was  burying  his  nose  in 
his  up-turning  glass  of  beer  or  in  some  other  way  had  his 
attention  distracted  for  a  few  moments,  when  one  or  even 
two  of  us  would  slip  in  unseen. 

We  sat  quietly  out  of  sight  in  the  shop  till  after  closing 
hour,  ten  o'clock,  at  which  time  with  much  ostentation  my 
father-in-law  closed  the  place  as  usual  and  iwent  off  seem- 
ingly for  the  night.  The  landlord  having  watched  him 
depart,  naturally  felt  that  further  vigil  would  be  waste 


180 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ful  expenditure  of  time  and  energies,  so  went  off  duty  and 
before  long  to  bed. 

But  his  wily  tenant,  instead  of  making  for  one  of  his 
homes  or  some  other  favorite  resort,  after  going  a  short  dis- 
tance doubled  back  to  a  place  from  which  he  could  observe 
the  upper  windows  above  his  shop.  When  he  thought  all 
was  clear  he  quietly  slipped  back  into  the  shop. 

Though  we  were  all  a  little  excited  we  kept  pretty  quiet 


until  the  landlord's  family  seemed  to  be  all  safely  in  bed, 
then  strange  things  began  to  happen.  The  large  wall 
mirror  was  taken  down,  the  marble  top  taken  off  the  table, 
chairs  made  as  convenient  for  carrying  as  possible,  smaller 
articles  stowed  in  drawers,  boxes,  and  bags,  and  my  father- 
in-law  put  in  the  window  a  large  card  bearing  the  notice, 


181 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

**0n  account  of  death  in  the  family  this  business  will  be 
closed  for  a  few  days."  Then  very  cautiously  the  door 
was  opened  and  the  outside  world  reconnoitred  carefully 
and  as  soon  as  the  coast  seemed  clear  enough  one  shouldered 
the  big  mirror,  two  others  each  put  a  large  barber's  chair 
upside  down  on  his  head  and  ^grabbed  something  smaller 
in  his  free  hand,  one  took  the  marble  table  top,  and  sO 
distributing  the  salvage  to  the  best  advantage  iwe  stealth- 
ily filed  out  leaving  the  place  pretty  bare  of  anything  at 
all  valuable,  and  my  father-in-law  locked  the  door  for  good. 

We  carried  the  plunder  to  my  father-in-law's  private 
residence,  whence  next  morning  it  was  carted  to  the  vessel 
and  expeditiously  shipped  out  of  sight  as  "Not  wanted  on 
the  voyage." 

As  we  were  going  on  board  next  day,  my  father-in-law 
had  a  pretty  considerable  scare,  for  there  on  the  wharf  on 
the  edge  of  the  croiwd  collected  there  was  the  easily  recog- 
nized and  dreaded  portly  form  of  his  much  wronged  land- 
lord. Great  and  pitiable  were  the  culprit's  dismay  and  ap- 
prehension; what  else  should  he  think  but  that  his  victim 
had  discovered  his  tenant's  flight  and  intended  voyage  and 
was  now  here  to  watch  for  and  stop  him  ?  He  grabbed  me 
convulsively  by  the  arm  and  hoarsely  half  whispered,  ' '  My 
goodness,  Adolph,  here's  that  old  G-runzel"  (the  landlord)  ; 
"what  in  the  mischief  shall  we  do?"  He  was  pale  and 
shaking  with  excitement,  feeling,  I  suppose  as  if  this  vain 
world  was  pitching  and  rolling  and  sinking  beneath  his 
feet.  I  hauled  and  shoved  him  behind  a  pile  of  cargo, 
"Come  and  get  your  moustache  and  hair  off,  so  that  he 
won 't  know  you  so  easily, ' '  said  I.  This  at  first  he  jibbed 
against  for  they  were  in  his  eyes  priceless  possessions, 
iworth  untold  trade— and  women.  But  "Needs  must  when 
the  devil  drives,"  so  we  slipped  across  the  road  to  one  of 
the  barber's  shops  to  be  found  near  shipping  places  and 
had  the  necessary  alteration  made,  and  as  he  had  changed 
his  ordinary  showy  raiment  for  plainer  toggery,  he  had 
only  to  pull  his  soft  felt  hat  well  over  his  face  to  alter  his 
appearance  from  a  smart  dandy  to  that  of  a  ferocious  des- 
perado from  the  wild  west. 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

But  he  didn't  sustain  this  character  very  well  on  our  re- 
turn to  the  ship.  It  is  the  greatest  mystery  that  his  shrink- 
ing bearing  did  not  lead  to  his  prompt  arrest  on  suspicion 
of  being  some  escaped  criminal  He  crouched  on  the  lee 
side  of  me  and  any  others  convenient,  kept  his  eye  on  the 
landlord  and  a  respectful  distance  from  him,  dodging  from 
point  to  point,  and  taking'  advantage  of  a  favorable  chance 
wedged  himself  in  a  little  crowd  struggling  over  the  gang- 
iway — we  helping  to  cover  him  as  well  as  we  could — and 
once  on  board  he  hurried  below  and  stowed  himself  away 
until  the  vessel  had  cast  off  and  the  steady  churning  of  the 
propeller  assured  him  that  his  business  perils  were  being 
left  at  a  safe  distance  behind. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  add  that  we  afterwards  learned 
that  the  landlord  was  not  on  the  lookout  for  his  debtor, 
but  seeing  the  notice  in  the  iwindow  had  given  it  undeserved 
credit  and  had  merely  treated  himself  to  a  little  relaxation 
from  his  stern  sentry  duty  over  the  shop.  It  was,  in  fact, 
some  days  before  he  discovered  how  he  had  been  ''done," 
and  it  is  perhaps  just  as  well  that  I  am  not  able  to  give 
you  reliable  information  as  to  his  then  words  and  deeds. 
But  I  take  it  that  his  next  defaulting  tenant  would  get 
very  short  shrift  from  him. 


183 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

MY    FIRST    SEA-VOYAGE. 

Well,  here  I  was  at  last  fairly  afloat,  rushing  as  fast  as 
a  fine  steam-vessel  could  carry  one  towards  a  new  life  and 
adventures,  and  to  strange  fortunes.  Here  I  was  leaving 
old  familiar  Hamburg  and  Altona  behind,  gliding  swiftly 
by  scenes  of  my  childhood,  boyhood,  and  earlier  love-days. 
Over  that  ridge  quaint  old  Ottensen  with  its  little  lake  and 
still  the  home  of  Elsbeth;  here  the  riverside  where  I  had 
so  often  voyaged  on  ice-rafts,  there  the  tall  chimneys  of 
friendly  glass-bottle  factories;  past  craft  of  all  kinds  and 
sizes;  soon  the  more  familiar  things  have  slipped  into  one 
low  grey  indistinguishable  mass  astern ;  my  ' '  Golden 
Abendsonne"  (Golden  Evening  Sun)  is  shining  in  glory 
low  down  in  the  west,  over  our  port  bow  as  though  encour- 
aging me  to  follow  it  as  I  am  doing;  but  soon  again  the 
dark  shades  of  night  are  settling  around  us  as  we  move  on- 
wards towards  and  into  the  cold  North  Sea  (a  prophetic 
forecast  of  what  was  to  come)  only  to  give  place  in  the 
morning  to  the  bright  sun  risi7ig  in  the  East— a  further 
forecast  of  my  future.  But  my  principal  feeling  was  one 
of  great  elation. 

The  vessel  was  of  the  modern  type  and  of  about  the  aver- 
age tonnage,  but  it  was  a  bit  of  a  Noah's  Ark  as  regards 
its  passenger  list,  and  it  was  soon  to  become  more  so.  But 
you  get  used  to  that  voyaging  from  Hamburg  to  America. 
We  were,  however,  at  once  roughly  sorted  out— single  men 
shunted  together  in  one  of  the  less  comfortable  parts,  single 
women  in  sacred  seclusion,  German  families  in  one  section; 

184 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Polish  jews  in  another;     miscellaneous     nationalities  else- 
where. 

The  first  feiw  days  on  an  emigrant  or  general  passenger 
ship  are  nearly  always  much  alike.  There  are  sure  to  be 
some  s'trutting,  quarrelsome  individuals,  both  male  and 
female,  and  children  getting  into  everybody's  way,  so  that 
the  tableau  is  very  suggestive  of  a  poultry  farm  or  market, 
what  with  the  cackling  and  crowing,  an  occasional  tussle, 
and  other  little  items.  But  as  soon  as  the  ship  touches  the 
open  sea  it  is  as  though  an  earthquake,  a  large  kitchen,  a 
public  restaurant,  one  or  two  low-class  hotel  bars,  and  some 
hospitals  had  got  badly  jumbled  together. 

There  was  one  thing  that  greatly  attracted  my  attention 
from  the  very  first,  and  I  puzzled  my  brain  over  the  prob- 
lem not  a  little.  Both  the  main  and  "tween"  decks  wer(> 
fairly  stacked  with  large  boxes  of  onions.  What  are  they 
for^  Surely  not  being  shipped  to  South  America?  A  few 
days  later  the  riddle  was  solved,  as  you  will  duly  find. 

We  had  lovely  weather  through  the  North  Sea  and  Eng- 
lish Channel  and  almost  every  yard  of  the  way  was  full  of 
interest  of  some  sort,  passing  vessels,  coast  scenery,  thrill- 
ing historic  associations;  for  these  iwaters  have  seen  bar- 
barian canoes  and  coracles,  Roman  galle3^s,  viking  corsairs, 
fighting  fleets  of  many  centuries,  and  now  the  vast  iron 
and  steel  machinery-fish  of  modern  days.  But  I  may  not 
loiter  on  these  things. 

When  we  got  into  the  Bay  of  Biscay  we  had  our  first 
real  idea  of  "a  life  on  the  ocean  wave,  a  home  on  the  roll- 
ing deep."  About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  saw 
the  sailors  fastening  and  lashing  down  everything  which 
was  at  all  movable,  the  portholes  were  closed  and  secured, 
and  the  hatches  iwere  covered  with  tarpaulins  and  battened 
down,  only  a  few  small  openings  being  left,  each  just  large 
enough  for  one  person  at  a  time  to  go  down  or  come  out 
from  below.  Before  long  the  wind  was  "blowing  great 
guns"  and  we  were  soon  in  the  thick  of  a  terrific  storm. 

But,  man  alive,  if  you  have  any  of  the  Viking  bloo.d  in 
you  it  is  glorious— I  when  you  get  used  to  it.  At  first  you 
may  feel  as  if  sky  and  sea  were  playing  shuttlecock  with 

185 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

you,  or  as  if  you  were  on  some  madly  plunging  hydraulic 
''lift/'  or  rather  on  such  a  lift  and  a  violent  earthquake 
combined,  or  as  if  the  sea  were  Mark  Twain's  "Genuine 
Mexican  Plug, ' '  but  of  an  enormously  exaggerated  size ;  and 
you  have  a  feeling  of  general  disintegration  and  dissolution 

and  as  if  you  were  a  disembodied  ghost  suffering 

,(my  descriptive  powers  fail  at  this  point.) 

But  when  you  have  got  your  sea-legs,  nerves,  and  stom- 
ach a  storm  at  sea  is,  as  I  said  before,  glorious.  You  feel 
the  same  wild  free  joy,  the  reckless  exultation  (which  a  bold 
''cross-country"  morning  gallop  gives  a  horseman.  Your 
ship  seems  a  high-mettled  giant,  living  creature— horse, 
mermaid,  fish  and  bird  all  in  one;  you  soon  learn  to  talk 
to  and  caress  it  as  an  Arab  does  his  steed.  It  seems  to 
understand  you  and  to  curvet  and  prance  in  proud 
obedience. 

"Well,  darkness  had  come  on  and  the  storm  had  become  so 
terrific  that  every  few  seconds  big  waves  swept  the  ship 
from  stem  to  stern.  My  father-in-law,  I,  and  a  few  others 
had  taken  shelter  behind  the  engine-house  and  were  watch- 
ing the  white  heads  of  the  waives  that  were  rising  and  tow- 
ering and  rushing  alongside.  In  fact,  it  was  too  dark  to 
distinguish  anything  but  those  gleaming  crests. 

Somebody  stumbled  up  against  us.  It  was  the  captain, 
in  oilskins  and  heavy  sea-boots;  but  being  a  good-humored 
man,  his  remarks  were  not  stronger  than  nautical  etiquette ! 
demanded  in  cases  of  sudden  emotion,  and  he  merely  order- 
ed us  below  to  avoid  being  washed  overboard.  We  had  to 
make  one  at  a  time,  a  ru'sh  between  succeeding  waves,  for 
the  man-hole  in  the  hatchway,  and  all  got  down  safely. 
But  as  we  lurched  and  reeled  and  bumped  along  the  alley- 1 
way  and  steerage  cabin  to  our  own  quarters,  the  sights  and  | 
sounds  and  complex  smells  we  encountered  made  the  place 
seem  like  the  Bedlam  and  infirmary  department  of  Hades. 
Women  and  children  moaning  and  screaming;  one  youngs- 
ter lustily  howling,  "I  want  to  go  back,"  (with  dismal  reit- 
eration ;  another,  ' '  Are  we  going  to  be  drowned  ? " ;  one  wo-  j 
man's  voice,  "Oh,  oh,  I'm  dying— go  for  the  captain— ask 
him  to  stop  the  ship;"     several  calling    for  the  steward, 

186 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

others  for  brandy  or  some  other  means  of  relief ;  sounds  of 
violent  agony  in  all  directions;  married  men  themselves  in 
distress  tenderly  attending  to  wives  and  children— some 
men  furiously  smoking  and  noisily  playing  cards  with  an 
air  of  indifference  and  bravado,  now  and  then  breaking 
out  iwith  their  most  impressive  expletives  and  all  but  com- 
ing to  blows  with  each  other. 

Arrived  at  our  own  quarters  we  turned  in,  three  in  a 
bunk— my  father-in-law  being  on  one  side,  a  friend  of  ours 
un  the  other,  and  I  the  more  onerous  position  in  the  middle. 
They  had  argued  with  much  show  of  reason  that  as  I  was 
thp  stoutest  and  heaviest  I  would  be  least  liable  to  serious 
damage;  and  there  we  were  rolling  and  jolting  about  side- 
ways as  if  in  a  cradle,  and  our  heads  and  feet  playing  see- 
saw with  the  pitching  of  the  ship,  and  getting  bumped  and 
*' bucked"  up  and  down,  and  jarred  with  the  vibration  of 
the  engines  and  propeller,  until  we  felt  as  if  pretty  nearly 
everything  except  our  inseparable  natural  depravity  was 
shaken  aut  of  us.  Every  now  and  again  there  was  a  ter- 
rific shook  as  the  great  iwaves  dashed  against  the  bows  (near 
which  we  were)  and  it  seemed  as  though  they  must  be 
smashed  in;  but  in  spite  of  all  the  noise  and  discomfort  I 
fell  asleep  and  when  I  awoke  everything  was  calm  and  the 
sunlight  shining  brightly  through  the  port-hole  near  our 
bunk,  and  I  could  see  land  close  by. 

I  hastened  on  deck  aud  found  we  were  on  the  River  Tago, 
and  rapidly  approaching  Lisbon,  the  capital  of  Portugal, 
which  iwas  our  first  place  of  call.  I  must  say  that  I  never 
in  all  my  life  before  breathed  such  balmy  air  as  on  that 
bright  morning  in  the  south  of  Europe,  and  I  already  felt 
it  very  beneficial  to  my  weakened  lungs. 

We  anchored  in  mid-stream  and  remained  about  two  days 
to  take  in  cargo  and  passengers.  On  the  first  day  about 
ten  of  us  went  ashore  in  one  of  the  boats  to  see  the  town 
and  any  romantic  adventures  that  might  come  along. 

Lisbon  is  beautifully  situated  and  very  hilly,  and  doubt- 
less contains  many  beauties  that  I  had  no  time  or  oppor- 
tunity to  become  acquainted  with,  though  we  saw  a  good 
many  casually— dark  eyes  and  hair  and  rich  complexions; 

187 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

but  I  am  a  married  man.  One  thing  struck  me  as  being 
very  strange,  the  fact  that  the  shops  had  no  windows  and 
that  all  the  goods  were  displayed  on  the  footpaths.  I  after- 
wards found  out  that  this  is  the  fashion  in  most  mild  cli- 
mates (that  is,  mild  in  the  sense  of  being  warm).  Another 
interesting  sight  was  the  strange  looking  vehicles  drawn  by 
mules  coming  tearing  down  the  steep  roads  at  break-neck 
speed.  It  was  all  new  and  positively  marvellous  to  us— es- 
pecially what  they  were  in  such  a  hurry  for,  seeing  that 
the  main  business  of  life  there  seemed  to  be  to  take  things 
as  easily  as  possible— to  lounge  and  doze  about  till  evening 
brought  its  usual  pleasures. 

Wine  saloons  were  plentiful,  and  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore thirst  and  curiosity  tempted  us  into  one  to  sample  the 
Spanish  and  Portuguese  national  beverage.  It  was  so  ex- 
ceedingly good,  that  we  were  not  long  in  getting  brimful 
of  jollity  and  to  some  extent  oblivious  of  our  surroundings, 
so  that  iwhen  in  the  evening  we  returned  on  board  we  did 
not  notice  that  we  had  a  stranger  in  the  boat  with  us— not, 
however,  let  me  say  at  once,  some  charming  Portuguese 
lady,  but  a  mere  man.  We  did  not  know  of  the  fact  till  next 
morning,  when  I  happened  to  be  about  the  first  passenger 
on  deck,  for  I  was  always  fond  of  the  fresh  morning  air. 

As  I  strolled  up  and  down  I  was  accosted  by  a  man  in 
blue  uniform,  of  a  man-of-war  sailor,  only  that  the  white 
piping  cord  on  the  collar  had  been  ripped  off.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  been  one  of  the  crew  of  an  English  man-of- 
war  then  lying  only  about  thirty  yards  from  us.  He  had 
seen  us  going  on  shore  and  had  managed  to  get  ashore  and 
waited  for  our  return,  calculating  that  w^e  would  not  do  so 
until  after  dark,  and  so  he  would  be  able  to  accompany 
us  unseen.  As  he  was  a  German  he  looked  to  his  country- 
men to  help  him.  He  iwas  a  tailor  by  trade,  but  had  shipped 
as  a  fireman  or  stoker  on  the  man-of-war  and  had  had  a 
terrible  time,  what  w^ith  hard  work  and  offensive  treatment. 
The  skin  on  the  palms  of  his  hands  was  in  places  as  thick 
as  the  sole  of  my  boot.  He  asked  me  what  sort  of  man  our 
captain  was  and  whether  I  thought  he  would  send  him  back 

188 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

to  the  man-of-war  or  to  the  police.  I  said  our  skipper  was 
a  good-hearted  sort  of  man. 

A  little  later  he  went  to  the  captain's  cabin,  and  when 
he  came  out  ag-ain  I  could  see  by  his  beaming  face  that  the 
interview  was  satisfactory.  Soon  after  this  police  came  on 
board  to  make  inquiries  about  him,  but  he,  of  course,  was 
kept  out  of  the  way,  and  our  good  natured  captain  some- 
how "bluffed"  the  police.  If  he  was  guilty  of  a  falsehood 
I  think  it  was  one  of  those-  that  are  more  honorable  than 
truth  at  times. 

We  shipped  our  Lisbon  passengers,  a  motley  crowd  of 
Spaniards  and  Portuguese  in  all  shades  of  sickly  yellow- 
ish grey  and  brown,  with  a  few  superior  samples  in  ruddy 
olive  and  pearly  teeth.  The  ship  was  now  a  menagerie  of 
many  nations  and  languages — a  not  unmusical  Babel,  how- 
ever, for  the  new-comers'  voices  were  mostly  so  soft  and 
sweet  that  but  for  the  breath  exhaled  with  them  you  might 
have  used  them  instead  of  sugar  and  molasses.  But  that 
breath !  I  soon  found  out  what  our  vast  stock  of  onions 
was  for.  These  Southerners  had  them,  and  garlic,  for 
breakfast,  dinner,  and  tea— with  wine  at  every  meal  instead 
of  tea,  and  cigars  and  cigarettes  to  fill  up  the  chinks  be- 
tween with. 


189 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

BRAZIL    AT    LAST— FIRST    IMPRESSIONS. 

We  were  about  three  weeks  on  the  ocean  after  leaving 
Lisbon,  an  ocean  that  has  for  ages  been  the  scene  of  all 
kinds  of  nautical  romance— traversed  by  daring  adventur- 
ers seeking  ' '  the  fairyland  of  gold  and  silver ' '  and  precious 
stones  that  lay  to  the  west,  by  returning  Spanish  fleets 
freighted  with  vast  treasure  trove,  by  buccaneers  and  pir- 
ates, by  real  as  well  as  fictionary  Robinson  Crusoes,  by 
slave-ships  innumerable,  by  sea-dogs  old  and  young  such  as 
iwe  read  about  in  Marryatt  and  Mayne  Reid,  by  great  war- 
fleets,  under  famous  sailors  of  many  nations— the  scene  of 
countless  wrecks  and  other  tragedies— and  perhaps  deep 
down  the  remains  of  a  forgotten  and  more  splendid  world 
than  we  in  modern  days  know. 

We  had  no  exciting  adventure  with  some  bloodthirsty 
Captain  Kidd  or  his  fraternity ;  they  are  all  honorably  shot 
or  hanged  or  otherwise  retired  from  business.  Our  huge 
iron  box  of  machinery  just  monotonously  bored  along  over 
thousands  of  miles  of  restless  dark  water-desert,  and  we, 
its  human  freight,  began  to  find  our  sea-legs  and  act  the 
sailor.  We  also  greiw  more  sociable  and  passed  the  time 
pleasantly  with  •games  and  other  amusements;  moreover, 
as  there  were  very  few  saloon  passengers,  and  they  good- 
naturedly  raised  no  objection,  we  were  allowed  the  run  of 
pretty  nearly  the  iwhole  ship. 

When  we  were  ' '  crossing  the  line, ' '  there  being  so  many 
land-lubbers  on  board,  we  had  the  customary  visit  of  State 
by  Neptune  and  his  court,  and  the  time  honored  rough- 


190 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ceremonial  rites  of  christening  or  confirmation,  or  whatever 
they  may  be,  connected  therewith ;  but  as  these  are  so  well 
known  1  need  not  describe  them. 

One  thing,  however,  may  be  worth  remark — eve^  perhaps 
of  international  moment;  I  could  not  help  noticing  that 
Neptune,  his  queen,  and  most  of  their  myrmidons  spoke  very 
excellent  German,  rather  slangy,  tarry,  profane  German 
perhaps — but  nevertheless  the  genuine  article.  In  fact,  it 
was  quite  plain  they  were  Germans.  Now  Britishers  are 
always  singing  and  boasting,  * '  Britannia-  Rules  the  Waves, ' ' 
and  1  would  like  to  know  how  this  can  be  if  Neptune  is  a 
"Deutscher,"  and  I  can  pledge  my  iword  and  honor  that 
the  Neptune  I  met  was,  and  knew  as  much  about  lager  beer 
and  every  other  sacred  institution  of  the  Fatherland  as  I 
did. 

My  father-in-law  was  about  the  most  refractory  of  the 
new  subjects  if  his  oceanic  majesty.  When  he  found  that 
an  essential  part  of  the  mystic  ceremony  was  in  the  hands 
of  a  brother  tonsorial  artist  (of  the  most  grotesquely  pre- 
historic type),  that  his  "lather"  or  shaving  solution  was 
not  at  all  of  the  most  refined  perfume,  but  suspiciously 
like  refuse  grease  and  pigwash,  that  his  brush  was  of  the 
kind  generally  used  for  tarrying  purposes,  and  that  his 
razor  was  fearfully  rusted  and  jagged— my  father-in-lajw 
claimed  exemption  as  being  ''in  the  trade"  or  at  least  to 
be  granted  the  usual ' '  trade  discount. ' '  It  was  all  in  vain ; 
the  monarch  and  his  courtiers  evidently  had  a  long  standing 
grudge  against  "long-shore  barbers,"  and  were  uproar- 
iously gleeful  at  having  one  in  their  clutches;  and  as  for 
their  own  deep-sea  tradesman,  he  seemed  fairly  fiendisli 
with  trade-rivalry,  and  when  the  rough  tarpaulin  apron  had 
been  secured  around  his  victim's  neck  he  rubbed  that  greasy 
slush  into  mouth  and  nostrils  and  ears  and  neck,  and  flour- 
ished and  scraped  and  scratched  with  that  bit  of  rusty  iron 
till  the  victim  yelled  and  struggled  convulsively  amid  shouts 
of  laughter  from  the  onlookers,  and  finally  he  was  drench- 
ed with  three  or  four  buckets  of  seawater  instead  of  a  spray 
of  ' '  eau  de  cologne. ' ' 

We  were  all  very  glad  when  early  one  morning  we  found 

191 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ourselves  getting  close  to  the  coast  of  Brazil— just  there  a 
rather  low-looking  coast,  but  with  a  distant  background  of 
mountain  and  forest ;  beyond  which  were  the  regions  whence 
for  centuries  vast  stores  of  gold,  silver  and  precious  stones 
had  been  ceaselessly  pouring  into  Europe.  This  was  the 
land  of  boundless  plenty  and  of  adventure,  iwhere  we  poor 
fools  felt  sure  that  fortunes  awaited  us. 

By  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock  that  morning  we  were 
in  a  magnificent  harbor,  All  Saints '  Bay,  which  is  separated 
from  the  sea  by  a  long  steep  hilly  tongue  of  land,  on  which 
and  for  some  miles  along  its  western  declivity  and  base  ex- 
tends the  important  city  of  Bahia,  with  a  population  of 
nearly  200,000,  I  believe.  To  us  it  ivvas  a  strange  and  pleas- 
ing scene. 

As  soon  as  we  had  anchored  in  the  bay,  we  were  surround- 
ed by  a  number  of  boats,  some  of  which  were  loaded  with 
fruit,  vegetables  and  various  other  things  which  sea-sick- 
ened stomachs  iwould  be  likely  to  want  to  eat,  besides  a 
number  of  gaudy  birds,  while  other  boats  contained  a 
swarm  of  ferocious  looking  black  and  brown  yelling  and 
gesticulating  savages,  who  seemed  likely  to  want  to  eat  us— 
at  least  that  was  the  first  impression  of  some  our  more  sim- 
ple-minded emigrants;  I  am  not  sure  that  any  of  us  were  en- 
tirely easy  on  this  point. 

But  whatever  anxieties  we  felt  were  speedily  re- 
liove'l  by  the  discoverv  that  they  were  merely  slaves,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  unload  the  cargo  for  that  port.  Being  a 
fairly  conscientious  man,  I  will  not  say  they  were  quite 
without  clothing;  in  fact,  literal  truthfulness  compels  me 
to  state  that  all  had  something  on  in  deference  to  fastidi- 
ous tastes  as  regards  decency— but  in  most  cases  there  ivas 
plenty  of  scope  for  charitahle  imaginations  to  supply  very 
palpable  deficiencies— accidentRl  short-comings,  as  one  may 
say.  For  instance,  the  majority  had  simply  a  coffee  bag 
iwith  three  holes  roughly  cut  in  them  for  the  head  to  emerge 
from  and  one  for  each  arm ;  a  few  who  were  more  fashion- 
able wore  reminiscences  of  trousers,  some  with  at  least  one 
leg  remaining,  scarcely  any  with  a  complete  back  view. 

Consequently,  as  they  climbed  over  the  ship's  bultv^arks, 

192 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


the  most  charitable  imagination  was  unequal  to  the  exces- 
sive strain  imposed  upon  it,  and  with  a  chorus  of  screams, 
the  ladies  on  deck  stampeded  down  below,  and  there  relieved 
their  agitated  feelings  with  half-smothered  giggling  and 
hysterical  chattering.  Presently,  hoiwever,  some  of  the 
boldest  of  them  appeared  as  reconnoitering  parties  in  the 
companion- )ways,  timidly  and  cautiously  at  first,  and  at  last 
venturing  out  again  in  twos  and  threes  tightly  locked  to- 
gether for  mutual  security  and  encouragement. 

These  negroes  were  all  hired  out  by  their  owners  just  as 
horses  might  be ;  there  were  about  fifty  in  the  batch  on  our 
vessel.  They  were  under  an  overseer  who  hailed  from  Ham- 
burg, and  I  think  he  deserved  about  as  much  pity  as  the 
poor  slaves  themselves,  for  they  iwere  as  hard  to  get  work 
out  of  as  a  crowd  of  sundowners  or  a  Government  Lands 
Department.  To  my  knowledge,  he  spared  neither  high  nor 
low  German,  and  I  believe  he  must  also  have  exhausted 
most  of  the  profanity  imported  into  Brazil  from,  all  quar- 
ters of  the  globe,  to  say  nothing  of -the  incessant  wear  and 
tear  of  shoe-leather,  in  well  directed  kicking,  all  with  very 
poor  results. 

Thus,  there  is  a  jabbering  down  in  the  hold;  three  or 
four  niggers  are  disputing  over  the  hoisting  of  something. 
The  overseer  looks  down  and  intervenes  with  some  assorted 
threats  and  a  well- aimed  chunk  of  wood ;  there  is  a  spas- 
modic combined  effort  and  the  steam  winch  hoists  the  boxes 
clear  of  the  hatchway.  Half  a  dozen  niggers  standing  near 
the  combing  of  the  hatch  let  out  half  a  dozen  yells  to  the 
winchman  and  clutch  hold  of  the  hoisted  boxes,  and  then 
hold  them  poised  in  mid-air  while  they  jabber  at  each  other 
and  at  half  a  dozen  others  on  the  bulwark,  who  are  jabber- 
ing at  them.  The  overseer  pours  a  torrent  of  white  hot 
verbal  lava  and  applies  a  vigorous  kick  to  each  and  several 
of  the  present  custodians  of  the  boxes  to  get  a  move  on 
them.  This  assistance  they  evidently  waited  for  as  abso- 
lutely necessary,  and  with  the  impetus  so  obtained,  they 
rush  their  charge  to  the  vessel's  side  and  with  further  en- 
ergetic supervision  from  the  overseer  or  one  of  his  subordi- 
nates it  is  transferred    to  the    boat    alongside.     He  then 


193 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

rushes  off  to  another  hatchway  to  go  through  much  the 
same  programme,  then  back  to  resume  duty  as  before. 

The  only  thing  those  niggers  can  do  without  special  stim- 
ulus is  to  jabber  and  quarrel.  Their  heads  are  hard  as 
logs,  and  the  overseer's  knuckles  are  raw  with  punching  and 
he  fairly  limps  with  his  arduous  labor  in  kicking.  His 
face  and  neck  stream  with  perspiration,  and  his  eye  has  the 
wild  glare  of  despair  and  insanity.  But  those  black  clowns 
grin  I  with  irrepressible  cheerfulness  and  malicious  fooling, 
which  it  would  take  pages  to  give  an  idea  of. 

All  the  slaves  in  Brazil  were  liberated  in  1884;  that  is 
about  two  years  after  my  first  arrival.  I  don't  wonder 
at  the  fact,  for  it  is  much  too  hot  a  climate  for  white  men 
to  manage  niggers  in;  livery  stable  work  is  light  in  com- 
parison.   The  mystery  is  how  they  persevered  so  long. 

Our  man-of-war  deserter,  however,  elected  to  land  here 
to  minimize  the  chances  of  capture  and  a  return  to  the 
stock-hole  of  an  English  ironclad.  He  was  the  best  judge 
of  that  matter.  We  collected  a  few  shillings  for  him,  and 
after  he  had  thanked  the  skipper  he  was  put  on  shore. 

Having  taken  in  a  little  cargo  for  other  ports,  we  steam- 
ed down  the  coast  to  Rio  Jenerio,  the  capital  of  Brazil] 
As  it  has  been  often  described,  I  will  not  attempt  doing  so, 
but  content  myself  with  one  or  two  short  remarks.  It  is 
said  to  have  the  best  harbor  in  the  world,  whereas  the  peo- 
ple of  Sydney  claim  that  distinction  for  theirs.  I  myself, 
doubt  whether  the  point  can  be  definitely  decided.  Per- 
haps as  regards  the  picturesque  point  of  view,  Sydney  har- 
bor has  some  advantages;  but  in  one  important  respect  it 
must,  I  think,  yield  the  palm. 

The  harbor  of  Rio  de  Janeiro  is  naturally  better  pro- 
tected from  invasion,  as  it  has  a  very  lofty  mountain  on 
one  side  of  the  entrance— it  is  called  "The  Sugar  Loaf," 
on  account  of  its  general  shape.  So  high  is  it  that,  at  least 
so  I  was  informed,  no  cannon  can  command  the  batteries] 
upon  it,  while  they  can  easily  hit  (?)  any  ship  that  might 
try  to  force  a  passage.  In  the  light  of  gunnery  tests  in 
war  during  late  years,  I  am  dubious  about  the  hitting  capa- 
bilities of  any  save  the  most  carefully  trained  gunners,  and 


1^4 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

I  have  a  suspicion  this  is  the  weak  point  in  the  local  calcu- 
lations—or one  of  the  weak  points,  for  in  war  as  in  all 
tiling,  "it  is  the  unexpected  that  happens."  American  and 
British  sailors  have  demonstrated  this,  and  owe  some  of  their 
great  successes  to  their  wonderful  aptitude  for  upsetting 
theories  and  other  thingis.    So  have  we  Germans,  on  land. 


X95 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

I  HELP  A  SMUGGLER. 

Soon  after  we  had  anchored  in  the  bay  and  as  I  was 
leaning  idly  over  the  bulwark,  one  of  my  fellow  passen- 
gers  sidled  up  to  me  and  launched  a  desultory  conversa- 
tion, .which  after  drifting  around  a  variety  of  subjects, 
resulted  in  his  confiding  in  me  that  he  was  utterly  destitute 
of  money,  but  had  twelve  dozen  men's  caps  in  his  trunk, 
which  he  thought  he  could  trade  off  to  advantage  in  Rio, 
if  only  he  could  land  them  free  of  duty,  and  he  finally 
asked  if  I  would  mind  helping  him  to  get  them  on  shore. 
He  said,  "I  ask  you  because  I  think  you  are  a  man  I  can 
trust. ' '  Now,  this  was  very  complimentary  from  one  point 
of  view  at  least — to  be  picked  out  from  a  crowd  of  some 
hundreds  as  worthy  of  confidence  (and  I  have  had  similar 
experiences  later,  in  Australia) — but  some  may  doubt 
whether  considering  the  nature  of  the  confidence  it  was 
entirely  flattering  from  sundry  other  points  of  viaw;  but 
let  that  pass. 

I  must  admit  that  I  did  not  feel  any  particular  ecstacy 
in  the  project,  but  as  he  seemed  to  be  entirely  dependent 
upon  it  and  I  had  little  to  lose,  my  own  entire  capital 
amounting  to  only  ten  shillings,  I  promised  my  help. 

Now,  I  am  not  going  to  defend  smuggling ;  if  I  was  guilty 
of  wrong-doing  I  shall  rest  my  case  on  the  plea  of  the  young 
Frenchwoman  whose  babe  had  evaded  legal  formalities— 
that  ''it  was  such  a  little  one,"  I  might,  however,  contend 
amongst  other  things  that  in  olden  times  the  wealthy  nobles 
who  were  the  chief  employers  of  those  days,  went  out  with 

196 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


their  retainers  all  armed  from  head  to  foot  to  collect  their 
customs  duties  and  ' '  protect ' '  themselves  by  compelling  the 
poor  peasants  and  tradesmen  to  pay  a  heavy  tariff  in  goods ; 
whereas'  now-a-days  the  nobles  are  manufacturers,  their 
castles  are  factories,  their  retainers  armed  with  votes  and 
law  instead  of  swords  and  spears,  and  instead  of  the  spoil 


k 


going  direct  to  castle  (or  factory)  it  has  to  be  taken  to  the 
custom  house.  Nevertheless,  I  am  an  ardent  protection- 
ist—provided we  protect  Peter  as  well  as  Paul  and  not  rob 
the  former  to  pay  the  latter. 

Now  the  caps  to  be  smuggled  were  thin  and  light  and 
folded  closely  one  into  another,  so  iwe  found  little  diffi- 


197 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

culty  in  each  stuffing  six  dozen  into  our  clothing  in  such 
a  way  as  merely  to  exaggerate  our  chest,  shoulder,  and 
general  muscular  development  to  a  rather  abnormal^extent, 
so  that  we  must  have  looked  tolerably  imposing  and  ma- 
jestic. It  was  perhaps  owing  partly  to  this  fact  and  our 
thereby  accentuated  lofty  and  austere  German  bearing  that 
we  owed  success,  for  the  customs  officer  gave  us  no  trouble 
—nor,  being  a  Portuguese  himself,  either.  But  our  hard- 
est work  was  to  find  a  buyer.  Not  being  able  to  speak  a 
iword  of  Spanish  or  Portugxiese,  we  could  only  try 
our  own  countrymen.  For  a  long  time  nobody  seemed  to 
want  them ;  said  they  were  of  little  use  in  a  country  where 
people  preferred  a  sort  of  portable  roof  over  their  heads 
as  a  protection  against  the  sun,  and  where  nightcaps  were 
unnecessary.  At  last  my  shipmate  had  to  nearly  give  them 
away.  Of  course  the  shopkeepers  knew  we  had  smuggled 
our  goods  and  took  advantage  of  us  in  consequence,  as  they 
do  all  over  the  world,  if  they  can. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

OUR    DESTINATION  — JIONVIbLE-ROUGHING    IT. 

[After  discharging  our  cargo  for  Eio  and  reloading,  we 
steamed  down  the  coast  to  Santos,  iwhich  is,  I  think,  the 
greatest  coffee  exportin^g  port  in  the  world — for  in  the  vi- 
cinity is  grown  much  of  the  theoretically  genuine  Arabian 
coffee,  sold  in  our  shops  as  "mocha"— and  what  matters  it^ 
In  Santos  you  can  see  little  but  coffee  warehouses ;  in  fact, 
coffee  may  be  seen  lying  in  heaps  in  the  streets. 

Thence  our  vessel  proceeded  to  a  small  port  named  Dona 
Francisca,  where  we  had  to  be  transhipped  into  small  craft 
to  reach  our  destination,  a  place  named  Jionville,  which  is 
some  distance  up  a  river.  I  cannot  say  how  many  miles 
inland  it  is,  but  it  took  very  nearly  all  day  to  get  there; 
and  when  we  did  I  can  tell  you  we  felt  very  much  as  if 
our  hearts  had  deserted  us  somewhere  on  the  way,  for  on 
both  sides  the  river  was  bordered  by  a  flat  desolate  wilder- 
ness with  a  very  few  mud  huts  dotted  here  and  there  about 
it.  As  most  of  us  were  tradespeople  we  wondered  /what 
on  earth  we  could  do  in  such  a  place. 

There  were  not  even  steps  on  the  small  wharf  or  jetty 
to  help  us  in  getting  out  of  the  boats,  so  we  men  had  to 
scramble  up  as  best  we  could  and  afterwards  help  hoist 
up  the  iwomen  and  children. 

Conspicuous  in  a  crowd  of  nearly  half-a-dozen  nonde- 
scripts was  a  young  German  arrayed  in  a  shirt,  about  three- 
quarters  of  a  pair  of  antiquated  pants,  and  on  his  head  the 
wreck  of  a  straw  hat,  of  which  the  once  wide  brim  hung 
loose  upon  his  shoulders ;  in  his  lips  a  cigarette.     He  greet- 

199 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ed  us  in  our  native  tongne  with,  "Well,  boys,  what  do  you 
want  here?  We  replied  that  we  had  come  in  search  of 
work  and  fortune.  Removing  his  cigarette  stump  and  ex- 
pelling from  his  lips  a  cloud  of  smoJ^e  with  all  the  delib- 
erate grace  of  a  Spaniard,  he  still  more  deliberately  laugh- 
ed a  pessimistic  laugh  that  filled  with  a  mysterious  weight 
the  aching  void  where  our  hearts  had  been,  and  all  but  par- 
alyzed us  with,  ' '  Well,  you  should  have  stopped  at  home : 


there  is  no  work  here.  I  live  here  on  a  fluctuating  income, 
obtained  by  selling  my  clothes;  but,  as  you  see,  I  have  not 
much  more  to  sell  unless  I  go  naked.  Sometimes  I  get  a 
day's  work  as  a  laborer,  but  that  is  not  very  often,"  and 
he  disconsolately  resumed  his  smoking. 

Well,  we  cast  a  despairing  glance  around  and  looked  into 
each  other's  eyes  in  search  of  something  we  could  not  find 
in  our  own  minds,  or  maybe  to  see  if  incipient  suicide  was 
reflected  in  other  minds.     It  was  perfidious  cruelty  to  bring 


200 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

US  to  such  a  place  without  capital.  What  we  were  wanted 
for  was  an  inscrutable  mystery — unless  as  a  sort  of  cat's- 
meat  for  (wild  animals  or  wilder  cannibal  natives. 

The  last  seemed  a  feasible  enough  theory,  for  we  were 
solemnly  marshaled  off  to  a  suspicious  looking  building 
called  the  "Immigrant's  Depot."  What  we  could  see  of 
the  township  was  nothing  but  a  swamp  hole  with  about  six 
moderately  decent  houses,  and  a  few  rather  large  sized  dog 
kennels,  or  perhaps  cow-sheds,  supported  by  piles  standing 
two  feet  or  so  out  of  the  mud.  There  was  no  street— only 
a  few  irregular  cart  and  foot  tracks.  As  for  beer-gar- 
dens or  saloons,  theatres,  and  such  like  essentials  of  civi- 
lization, there  seemed  nothing  of  the  sort. 

Such  was  the  place  described  to  us  in  Hamburg  as  a 
prosperous  town  with  iron  foundries,  engineering  works, 
and  other  splendors.  There  was  in  point  of  fact  an  iron 
foundry  (or  "works")  but  the  whole  industry  was  carried 
on  iwith  luxurious  ease  by  the  ' '  boss ' '  and  two  boys.  I  will 
not  hastily  accuse  the  colonization  office  of  misrepresenta- 
tion, for  a  thriving  city  might  easily  have  been  engulfed 
at  any  time  in  the  unfathered  lake  of  mud,  and  without 
legal  proof  that  such  a  catastrophe  had  not  happened  it 
would  be  unsafe  to  impugn  the  Brazilian  government. 

The  depot,  where  we  were  "accommodated,"  was  nothing 
but  a  long  shed  open  in  front,  exactly  like, a  common  cattle- 
shed.  From  the  back  wall  there  was  a  rough  sloping  low 
shelf  of  boards,  extending  only  half  as  far  as  the  roof.  Here 
fwe  were  at  liberty  to  sleep  and  live  as  best  we  could. 

Some  of  us,  including  myself  and  my  father-in-law,  had 
unwisely  left  our  mattresses  on  board  the  steamer,  so  we 
had  to  shift  on  the  bare  boards,  my  first  experience  of  that 
kind. 

The  first  night  I  could  not  sleep  a  wink,  and  after  sev- 
eral hours  discomfort  I  decided  to  make  a  prospecting  tour. 
I  got  up  quietly  and  with  my  revolver  in  my  pocket,  I  stole 
out  of  our  pigsty  and  walked  some  miles  out  of  the  town- 
ship until  I  found  myself  in  virgin  bush  or  scrub.  Just 
as  dawn  was  beginning  to  show  I  heard  something  rustling 
in  the  undergrowth',  and,  thinking  it  might  be  some  wild 

201 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

animal,  with  revolver  in  hand,  I  cautiously  advanced  to- 
wards the  place  iwhence  the  noise  came,  and  at  last  sure 
enough  I  suddenly,  came  upon  a  very  large  animal,  but  it 
was  a  familiar  one— a  cow.  I  don't  know  whether  I  was 
most  disappointed  or  relieved,  but  anyhow  I  was  hungry 
so  returned  to  camp. 

Everyone  was  astir  getting  breakfast  ready.  We  had 
two  days'  rations  supplied  gratuitously  and  fared  fairly 
well  in  that  respect. 

After  breakfast  my  father-in-law,  I,  and  four  others  had 
a  good  look  around,  principally  to  see  if  we  could  get  a 
room  somewhere.  At  last  we  succeeded  in  renting  a  room 
with  not  a  stick  of  furniture  in  it  except  a  decrepit  Colon- 
ial sofa,  which  we,  used  chiefly  as  a  table,  and  slept  side  by 
side  on  the  floor.  But  a  necessary  preliminary  to  a  night's 
repose  was  to  sweep  out  frogs,  lizards,  centipedes,  spiders, 
and  other  small  vagrants,  sometimes  even  snakes.  What  a 
difference  from  our  comfortable  homes  in  the  old  countr}^ ! 


202 


CHAPTER  XL. 

MY  FATHER-IN-LAW  AND   A  YOUNG  WIDOW.      • 

My  father-in-law  set  up  in  his  own  business  as  a  hair- 
dresser and  managed  notwithstanding  the  poor  outlook,  to 
struggle  along.  For  one  thing,  he  was  always  something 
of  a  ladies'  man,  and  between  them,  our  fellow  emigrants, 
and  the  rather  rough  dandies  of  the  neighborhood,  he  had 
fair  patronage  at  satisfactory  prices. 

There  was  one  young  lady  with  whom  he  found  much 
favor.  She  had  come  over  on  the  same  vessel  as  ourselves, 
as  also  had  her  sweetheart.  The  latter,  however,  was  in 
an  advanced  stage  of  consumption.  His  father,  had  amply 
provided  him  with  an  outfit  and  with  money,  but  soon 
after  landing  it  was  found  he  was  dying. 

On  the  advice  of  their  shipmates  the  girl  married  the 
young  man,  though  actually  on  his  dying  bed,  so  that  she 
could  come  into  possession  of  his  property;  otherwise  the 
Brazilian  government  could  have  seized  it.  The  wedding 
was,  of  course,  a  very  sad  one,  and  only  two  days  later  the 
young  fellow  died. 

The  young  widow's  grief  can  be  easily  imagined  as  also 
the  great  sympathy  she  received,  and  my  scapegrace  father- 
in-law  was  one  of  the  most  actively  sympathetic. 

Now  women,  and  especially  young  widows,  take  kindly 
to  friendly  consolation,  their  weakly  nature  looks  for  some- 
thing to  lean  upon,  and  naturally  they  prefer  a  strong  sup- 
port, masculine  for  preference.  A  man's  sympathy  and 
affection,  though  open  to  some  suspicion  as  to  an  alloy  of 
selfishness,  is  at  least  at  once  tangible,  flattering,  and  more 

203 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

satisfactory  than  that  of  any  woman  friend ;  it  is  the  thing 
most  missed  and  needed. 

Exactly  how  it  came  about  I  don't  know,  but  in  spite 
of  my  father-in-law's  domestic  obligations  across  the- sea 
his  attentions  to  the  young  widow  had  become  so  open  and 
notorious  as  to  lead  to  the  greatest  scandal.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  those  attentions  had  become  incessant,  so  that  he 
entirely  forsook  our  Bachelor 's  Hall,  and  boarded  iwith  the 
young  widow,  who  had  industriously  established  herself  in 
a  laundry.  I  don't  think  local  ''society"  much  concerne  .. 
itself  in  the  matter,  however;  for  by  all  accounts  and  ap- 
pearances it  was  merely  a  case  of  moral  acclimatization.  I 
did  not  at  all  like  it  myself,  for  as  a  married  man  I  had 
acquired  respect  for  conjugal  obligations ;  and,  besides,  did 
not  like  my  wife's  father  placing  himself  in  such  a  position. 


204 


CHAPTER  XLI.  * 

FORTUNE  MAKING  AND  ADVENTURES. 

There  was  a  small  weekly  paper  issued  every  Thursday 
and  by  means  of  this  iwe  gleaned  a  few  scraps  of  news  about 
the  outside  world. 

One  day  iwe  saw  an  advertisement,  "Wanted,  men  for 
roadmaking,"  so  as  there  seemed  no  other  opening  for  us 
we  thought  we  had  better  see  about  it.  Through  the  store- 
keeper's influence  about  twenty  of  us  found  ourselves  a  day 
or  two  later  mounted  in  very  primitive  carts  for  a  journey 
of  about  one  hundred  miles  inland  through  the  bush  for 
the  purpose  of  earning  the  magnificent  sum  of  2s.  per  day 
and  rations.  I  had  left  30  to  40s.  per  week  at  home  to  run 
halt  iway  round  the  world  for  this ! 

When  we  reached  the  end  of  that  trip  I  don't  think 
there  was  a  square  inch  on  any  of  us  that  was  not  either  a 
bruise  or  a  sore  with  the  jolting  we  had  received.  We  were 
bumped  up,  and  bumped  down,  bumped  against  each  other 
and  against  everything  in  and  about  the  cart.  We  iwere 
bumped  overboard  and  spilt  promiscuously  with  our  goods. 
If  I  exaggerate  at  all  it  is  because  not  only  was  every  joint 
in  our  bodies  more  or  less  dislocated,  but  also  all  our 
senses  and  moral  training  and  regard  for  all  that  is  called 
good.  If  words  could  literally  'Hake  roof  as  well  as  come 
from  roots  I  am  certain  that  track  could  still  be  easily  iden 
tified  by  a  continuous  crop  of  the  choicest  and  most  com- 
prehensive German  profanity.  I  shouldn  't  be  surprised  if 
there  are,  in  fact,  traces  of  it  among  the  stray  natives  and 
local  parrots. 

205 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

At  our  destination  we  found  a  few  more  Germans  and 
a  horde  of  miscellaneous  nationalities  mostly,  however, 
Italian^  and  Spaniards,  and  a  rough  lot  they  iwere.  They 
surrounded  the  carts  and  villilied  and  threatened  us,  and 
a  squabble  ensuing,  they  drew  their  knives  and  all  but  set 
upon  us  then  and  there  with  them,  but  somehow  or  other 
it  came  to  nothing— probably  because  we  showed  too  bold 
a  front  and  looked  a  bit  too  solid. 

The  overseer  lost  no  time  in  informing  us  that  we  should 
get  no  pay  for  two  month,  as  .wages  were  only  paid  monthly, 
and  the  first  month's  was  kept  back.  From  other  quarters 
we  learned  that  there  was  no  certainty  about  getting  any 
pay  at  all,  because  the  engineers  who  were  in  charge  had 
an  inconvenient  habit  of  decamping  with  the  iwhole  of  the 
treasury  when  it  arrived. 

The  first  thing  we  had  to  do  was  to  build  ourselves  a 
rough  shelter.  What,  with  one  thing  and  another,  I  felt 
that  our  lot  was  iworse  than  the  one  we  had  left,  and  said 
to  my  four  mates,  ''Look  here,  boys,  the  sooner  we  clear 
out  of  this  the  better. ' ' 

There  were  a  number  of  wild  native  Indians  in  the  neigh- 
borhood and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  talk  about  them  and 
of  adventures  with  them.  By  all  accounts  they  were  a 
treacherous  and  dangerous  lot,  though  terribly  cowardly. 
We  were  from  the  first,  cautioned  to  keep  a  sharp  look  out 
for  them,  especially  at  night  and  if  ;we  strayed  from  camp. 
Fortunately  they  were  very  poorly  armed  and  had  such  a 
wholesome  dread  of  firearms  (no  doubt  from  many  painful 
lessons)  that  one  man  with  a  gun  of  almost  any  kind  could 
keep  a  whole  tribe  of  them  at  a  very  convenient  distance. 

But  the  "bush,"  as  we  should  call  it  in  Australia,  was 
very  dense— tall  trees  closely  set,  with  a  tangled  under- 
growth of  shrubs  and  tough  creepers  of  centuries'  growth. 
This  bush  was  beautiful  with  rich  hued  flowers,  and  wild 
fruits  also  abounded  nearly  everywhere.'  The  Indians, 
therefore,  found  easy  shelter  and,  what  with  the  fruit  and 
game,  plenty  of  food.  It  was,  of  course,  only  natural  that 
they  should  strongly  object  to  such  trespassers  as  we  were 
upon  their  ancient  heritage. 


206 


k 


THE   EMIGRANT. 


I  Nearly  every  night  they  used  to  make  some  sort  of  at- 
k  upon  our  huts,  generally  with  volleys  of  stones  used 
in  forming  the  roads,  and  with  arrows,  iwooden  waddies, 
or  anything  else  they  could  make  use  of.  Such  uncivil 
disturbance  compelled  us  to  occasionally  fire  a  few  shots  at 
random  into  the  darkness  and  the  surrounding  bush,  just 
by  way  of  a  hint  that  scalp-collecting  calls  would  probably 
cause  some  little  inconvenience  to  themselves.  Possibly  a 
few  of  them  either  got  hit  or  so  scared  by  narrow  escapes 
as  to  start  a  panic-stricken  flight;  but  we  never  found  any 
actual  remains  on  the  field  of  battle,  if  it  can  be  so  called. 

But  by  the  second  week,  myself  and  mates  had  had  quite 
enough  of  all-round  unpleasant  experiences  without  pros- 
pective profit,  and  at  my  suggestion  we  decided  to  ''make 
cursolves  scarce"  in  camp  on  the  following  Saturday  night, 
as  that  would  be  the  most  favorable  time  to  get  a  good  start 
from  any  pursuit— for  liquor,  cards,  dice,  and  fights  would 
then  engross  attention. 

When  the  time  came  we  hastily  packed  up  our  few  be- 
longings, slipped  unseen  out  of  the  camp,  and  tramped  on 
all  night  over  the  road  we  had  come  by.  When  daylight 
showed  we  struck  off  into  the  bush,  both  for  necessary  rest 
and  to  be  able  to  better  conceal  ourselves  if  iwe  should  be 
followed,  for  we  had  signed  a  contract  (though  we  could 
not  read  it"*  which  we  understood  bound  us  to  a  certain  term 
of  service.  The  forest  was  so  impenetrable  that  we  had 
to  literally  cut  every  step  of  our  way  into  it,  using  for  that 
purpose  special  saiw-swords  intended  for  such  work  with 
which  each  of  us  had  been  furnished. 

During  this  and  the  succeeding  days  of  our  journey  we  had 
some  exciting  adventures  with  snakes  and  a  few  wild  ani- 
mals, killing  some  dozens  of  the  former  and  now  and  then 
one  of  the  latter.  But  we  did  not  seem  to  be  pursued  from 
the  camp;  very  likely  the  ''bosses"  thought  we  iwere  not 
worth  the  trouble,  as  not  being  of  much  use  for  that  kind 
of  work. 

At  last  we  found  ourselves  once  more  in  the  township 
fi'om  which  we  had  set  out  nearly  a  month  before— but  noiw 
worse  of!"  than  ever. 

207 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

We  returned  our  tools  to  the  storekeeper,  telling  him  that 
\we  would  settle  with  him  as  soon  as  we  had  money  to  do  so ; 
that  was  all  we  could  do,  and  he  was  satisfied. 

From  him  we  heard  that  about  four  miles  out  of  the  town 
there  was  a  plantation,  owned  by  a  German  doctor  of  law, 
}who  might,  perhaps,  find  us  something  to  do.  Without  loss 
of  time  we  walked  out  to  see  him. 


CHAPTER  XLll 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

A  HUNTING     EXPEDITION —AN      OLD      GERMAN'S      YARN  AND  A 
LUDICROUS   MISHAP. 

I  have  not  yet  mentioned  that  before  leaving  Hamburg, 
I  had  provided  myself  with  not  only  a  revolver,  but  with 
two  old-fashioned  smooth-bore  rifles,  a  bowie  knife,  and  a 
bayonet.  You  may  wonder  what  I  wanted  this  armory  for. 
Well,  you  see,  I  had  through  books,  newspapers,  and  other 
equally  convincing  if  unreliable  sources,  acquired  such  a 
comprehensive  fund  of  fact  and  fiction  about  this  still 
largely  unknown  land  that  I  could  not  easily  sift  one  from 
the  other,  but  jumbled  them  into  a  hopeless  tangle. 

The  revolver  and  guns  may  be  passed  as  reasonable  nec- 
essaries or  luxuries,  as  you  choose;  but  how  about  the 
bowie-knife  and  the  bayonet?  Well,  was  not  the  former 
part  of  the  outfit  of  every  self-respecting  adventurer  in  all 
out  of  the  way  parts  of  America?  Was  it  not  knawn  to 
be  the  constant  companion  of  the  Italians  and  Spaniards, 
who  swarmed  in  that  distant  country  ?  As  for  the  bayonet, 
just  suppose  that  you  were  sauntering  through 
a  dense  jungle  and  two  jaguars  appear;  you  fire  at  and 
kill  one,  but  the  other  springs  at  you  before  you  can 're- 
load your  rifle,  would  not  a  sword-bayonet  on  the  end  of 
that  rifle  be  a  source  of  much  personal  comfort  to  meet  that 
fierce  spring  with  ?     Such  had  been  a  few  of  my  reasonings. 

My  limited  exchequer  had  forbidden  my  procuring  a 
modern  sporting  rifle,  and  the  old  Jew  pawnbroker  in  whose 
shop  I  had  noticed  an  extensive  second-hand  arsenal  had 
strongly  recommended  a  huge  smooth-bore  musket  of  about 

209 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Frederick  the  Great's  day,  as  being  equally  qualified  either 
to  carry  a  medium  sized  cannon  ball  with  which  to  batter 
in  the  toughest  of  alligators,  or  a  charge  of  small  shot  with 
which  to  bring  down  birds  and  other  small  game,  and  being 
offered  two  of  these  blunderbuses  for  the  price  of  one  and  a 
half  and  thinking  that  it  would  be  handy  to  carry  one  load- 
ed with  ball  and  one  with  small  shot,  I  bought  two  of  them. 
I  had  also  invested  in  a  bullet  mould,  powder,  shot  and 
some  lead,  which  last  I  soon  converted  into  a  stock  of  bul- 
lets. All  this  war  material  I  had  shipped  to  Jionville,  and 
allowed  my  father-in-law  the  temporary  use  of  one  of  the 
guns.  I 

There  was  in  the  township  a  gaunt,  sun-dried,  long- 
bearded  scarecroiw  who  was  said  to  have  come  from  Ger- 
many twenty-odd  years  before,  but  looked  much  more  like 
a  Rip  Van  Winkle  relic  from  the  days  of  Noah.  Anyhow, 
he  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  mighty  hunter,  a  mighty 
romancer,  and  a  most  distinguished  failure  in  ordinary  life. 
He  lived  alone  in  a  small  hut  with  an  an  old  dog  of  mis- 
cellaneous pedigree  and  villaneous  aspect  and  temper,  and 
a  menagerie  of  native  birds,  reptiles,  and  such  domestic  or 
uncivilized  insects  as  cared  to  share  his  hospitality— they 
were  many. 

He  was  an  easy-going,  good-natured  fellow,  and  on  the 
principle,  I  suppose,  that  ** birds  of  a  feather  (morally) 
flock  together,"  my  vagabond  father-in-law  had  managed 
to  scrape  acquaintance  with  this  prehistoric  ''ne'er-do- 
well." 

One  of  the  first  results  iwas  that  this  ol(J  citizen  (for  con- 
venience I  may  as  well  call  him  Rip  Van  Winkle,  or  sim- 
ply "Rip"  for  short),  my  father-in-law,  and  myself  ar- 
ranged for  two  days'  shooting  together  in  the  bush  or  for- 
est. So  one  morning  we  set  out  accompanied  by  Rip's  dog 
and  an  old  negro  to  help  carry  home  the  expected  spoils. 
My  father-in-law  and  I  each  carried  one  of  those  enor- 
mous muzzle-loading  guns,  a  flask  of  powder,  another  of 
shot,  a  small  bag  of  bullets  the  size  of  marbles,  a  box  of  per- 
cussion caps,  a  bowie-knife  and  a  small  axe.  We  wore 
dark  blue  shirts,  mole-skin  pants,   and  Wellington  boots 


210 


1 


THE   EMIGRANT. 


into  which  the  legs  of  our  moleskins  were  stuffed  digger 
fashion,  and  for  headgear  we  had  hollow  mountains  of  soft 
felt,  the  brims  of  which  seemed  to  reach  nearly  half  way 
to  the  horizon. 

For  some  time  we  new  chums  walked  along  briskly 
with  our  eyes  and  guns  on  the  alert.  In  fact,  we  were  too 
much  on  the  alert  and  old  Rip  ripped  out  a  few  very  strong 
German  oaths  at  the  frequency  with  which  he  found  him- 


self and  the  negro  covered  by  the  muzzles  of  our  guns  as 
we  hurriedly  siwung  around  at  some  noise  which  we  for 
the  moment  thought  was  made  by  a  wild  animal— but  which 
mostly  turned  out  to  be  his  dog  fossicking  amongst  the 
undergrowth. 

On  one  occasion  my  father-in-law  actually  fired  at  the 
dog,  which  had  gone  off  in  another  direction,  and  when  it 
reappeared  momentarily  with  a  bound  my  father-in-law  in 

211 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

his  excitement  mistook  it  for  a  larger  and  wild  animal. 
Being  a  novice  he  fortunately  closed  both  eyes  just  as  he 
fired,  so  naturally  hit  something  else,  for  by  a  fluke  the 
bullet  after  glancing  against  a  tree  brought  down  a  gaudy- 
colored  parrot  which  happened  to  be  sitting  on  a  branch 
near  by.  But  the  gun  brought  down  something  else,  too, 
for  it  kicked  so  hard  that  my  father-in-law  stumbled  back- 
wards and  tripping  over  something  fell  against  the  old 
negro,  who  with  calculating  prudence  had  carefully  kept 
pretty  close  behind  the  more  dangerous  of  the  two  ama- 
teurs so  as  to  minimize  the  risk  of  being  in  front  of  his 
gun  when  it  went  off.  The  negro  yelled  and  there  was  a 
momentary  scuffle  as  the  two  clutched  at  each  other  instinc- 
tively and  fell  together,  and  it  very  nearly  became  a  serious 
fight;  for  one  of  the  huge  ants  (nearly  two  inches  long) 
common  in  that  country  bit  my  relative  on  the  arm,  and 
he  thinking  the  negro  had  bitten  him  or  stabbed  him  with 
a  knife  was  going  to  defend  himself  with  his  own. 

Rip  and  I  interfered  in  time,  however,  and  the  former 
then,  as  master  of  the  hunt,  gave  strict  orders,  made  more 
weighty  by  profanity  and  dire  threats,  that  neither  of  us 
was  to  fire  again  until  he  gave  us  a  signal  to  do  so. 

We  found  the  parrot  too  much  shattered  to  be  of  any 
use,  but  my  father-in-law  bagged  it  to  prove,  as  he  said,  to 
incredulous  friends  that  he  could  and  had  shot  straight! 
We  behind  the  scenes  know  that  it  proved  that  he  did  not 
shoot  straight  on  that  occasion,  but  very  crooked  indeed. 
But  he  was  always  a  fellow  to  twist  things  to  his  oiwn  ad- 
vantage without  the  slightest  respect  for  facts  and  truth. 
Besides,  why  should  he  be  begrudged  this  little  trophy? 
It  was  the  only  thing,  so  far  as  I  knotw,  he  ever  did  shoot, 
even  by  accident,  though  he  blazed  away  a  good  deal  at 
various  times. 

Though  Mr.  Rip  was  a  keen  sportsman,  I  think  he  found 
quite  as  much  pleasure  in  an  opportunity  for  unlimited 
talking — he  was  at  it  very  nearly  the  livelong  day  and  far 
into  the  night— he  would  give  no  one  else  a  show  at  all; 
if  one  of  us  others  began  anj^hing  bey  on  g  a  bare  question 
he  would  at  once  raise  his  hand  as  though  to  say  ''hush! 


212 


^— _, 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

and  iwould  appear  to  be  listening  intently  for  some  imagin- 
ary sound  indicating  the  presence  of  game  of  some  sort, 
and  would  prowl  around  furtively  peering  into  bushes 
and  trees  or  anything  handy,  and  would  then  take  up  the 
begining  himself  again  with,  "  As  I  was  saying, "  or  "  That 
reminds  me"  and  would  launch  out  into  a  further  string 
of  marvelous  adventures  and  ancedotes  and  details  of 
woodcraft  and  amateur  science,  some  of  which  iwas  cer- 
tainly amusing  if  one  could  only  feel  a  little  confidence  in 
its  credibility;  but  probably  he  kept  about  as  near  to  sub- 
stantial facts  as  most  travellers,  sportsmen  and  similar  ad- 
venture-mongers. 

The  narrow  escape  of  his  dog  from  my  father-in-law's 
gun,  of  course,  reminded  him  of  an  incident  of  a  similar 
though  far  more  dramatic  nature.  As  nearly  as  possible 
I  give  a  translation  of  his  own  story : 

"A  good  many  years  ago  I  and  a  mate  of  mine  were 
prospecting  for  diamonds  or  anything  alse  worth  picking 
up  around  about  the  upper  Uruguay  and  Iguassu  and  sup- 
porting ourselves  by  hunting.  As  a  matter  of  fact  we  did 
far  more  hunting  than  prospecting,  for  we  were  both  fond 
of  it,  and  besides,  we  had  to  pretty  frequently  replenish 
our  larder.  Of  course,  the  wild  fruits  and  vegetables 
helped  us  along  considerably  for  you  can  find  them  near- 
ly everywhere.  We  had  heard  that  the  natives  often  when 
hunting  disguised  themselves  to  resemble  any  game  they 
desired  so  as  the  better  to  get  within  easy  range  with  their 
bows  and  arrows.  We  tried  the  dodge  ourselves  more 
than  once  with  fair  success ;  and  kept  a  few  skins  on  hand 
to  use  for  such  purposes. 

**0n  one  occasion  the  place  we  were  in  looked  a  likely 
one  for  tapirs — so  about  dust  we  both  sallied  forth  each 
covered  with  a  tapir  hide  loosely  laced  around  us  and 
padded  out  a  bit  where  necessary.  We  had  our  guns  fixed 
conveniently  so  as  to  leave  our  hands  free  for  walking  on  all 
fours  and  increase  our  chance  of  getting  game  we  set  off 
in  different  directions. 

I  had  been  crouching  along  for  some  time,  now  and  then 
dropping  on  my  hands  when  I  thought  I  heard  or  saw  in- 

213 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

dications  of  the  quarry  I  was  after,  and  at  last  plainly 
saw  some  little  distance  away  a  large  dark  obect  that  had 
every  appearance  of  being  a  medium-sized  tapir.  It  was 
browsing  about  the  grass  very  much  like  a  horse  does, 
and  steadily  drawing  nearer  to  me.  I  was  (as  I  thought) 
more  concealed,  but  also  made  a  show  of  browsing  while 
gradually  creeping  within  easy  gunshot— for  the  tapir  has 
a  tough  hide  and  you  need  to  be  fairly  close  to  make  sure 
of  hitting  it  in  a  soft  spot.  At  length  thinking  myself 
near  enough  I  was  just  about  to  fire  when  I  felt  myself 
struck  to  the  earth  by  some  heavy  body  that  had  landed 
on  my  shoulders  and  I  heard  a  growling  roar.  Next  in- 
stant there  was  the  report  of  a  gun  close  by  and  the  heavy 
creature  that  had  struck  me  down,  rolled  convulsively  off 
me  and  lay  dead.  It  was  a  puma— the  tree  climbing 
South  American  lion— it  had  been  lying  in  wait  for  prey 
and  as  I  crawled  under  the  tree  in  which  it  was  hiding  (as 
they  often  do)  it  had  sprung  upon  me.  But  who  had  fired 
the  shot  which  had  killed  it  and  saved  me  1  You  will  hard- 
ly believe  me;  it  was  the  tapir  I  had  been  just  going  to 
fire  at— for  that  tapir  (as  I  thought  it)  was  my  mate! 
We  had  somehow  worked  around  towards  each  other,  part- 
ly because  the  river  formed  a  loop  just  there,  and  had  been 
stalking  each  other!  He,  however,  had  noticed  something 
untapir-like  in  my  movements  and  had  soon  recognized 
me,  but  being  fond  of  practical  joking  had  gone  on  pre- 
tending to  browse  just  to  see  how  long  he  could  deceive 
me— he  took  care,  however,  to  watch  keenly  for  my  getting 
ready  to  fire  aad  so  saw  the  puma  attack  me,  and  was 
therefore  in  time  to  shoot  it  and  save  me.  'Well,  Rip,'  he 
said  laughing  heartily,  'next  time  you  play  tapir  don't 
stick  your  back  up  too  high,  and  don't  stick  your  snout  up 
in  the  air  too  high'— for  in  my  intentness  on  watching 
him  the  nose  of  my  hide-covering  was  mostly  pointing  at 
the  sky." 

This  yarn  may  sound  fairly  plausible,  but  Rip's  reputa- 
tion for  free  and  easy  fiction  made  us  suspicious,  so  I  take 
no  responsibility  in  the  matter. 

We  had  found  a  pleasant  sheltered  nook  near  a  small 


214 


I 


[ 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


earn— such  a  spot  as  would  suit  an  Arcadian  romance— 
a  soft  carpet  of  grass  under  the  deep  cool  shades  of  dense 
foliage  interlaced  and  in  places  matted  with  creepers  and 
rich  hued  flowers— and  now  and  again  we  had  a  glimpse  of 
some  brilliant  colored  birds  and  butterflies  flitting  about, 
and  not  far  distant  we  could  hear  the  chattering  of  small 
monkeys,  which  are  pretty  numerous;  but  as  we  did  not 
want  them,  we  left  them  alone. 

After  a  hearty  meal  of  provisions  we  had  brought  with 
us,  we  lay  on  the  grass  luxuriously  smoking  and  idly  chat- 
ting, Rip  letting  off  a  few  more  astonishing  yarns,  of 
course. 

Naturally  we  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  snakes,  they  being 
far  too  plentiful  for  one's  peace  of  mind.  I  daresay  some 
of  them  are  harmless,  but  I  remember  one  species  that  had 
the  reputation  of  being  very  deadly,  though  only  small, 
say  about  2  feet  long.  It  is  a  beautiful  beast  as  regards 
color  (as  are  some  other  sorts)  being  ringed  with  red  and 
black.  It  is  exceedingly  active  and  I  was  told,  often 
springs  at  the  face  of  a  man  it  attacks;  I  cannot,  how- 
ever, boast  of  any  personal  interviews  with  it  worth  men- 
tioning, though  we  had  seen  a  few  snakes  that  day  and 
had  killed  two  or  three  without  much  trouble. 

But  towards  evening  I  took  it  into  my  head  to  have  a 
swim  in  the  bit  of  fresh  water  close  by  and  Rip  and  the 
negro  decided  to  do  the  same.  All  went  well  for  a  time, 
and  we  were  thoroughly  enjoying  ourselves  when  I  sud- 
denly heard  an  ear-splitting  yell  from  the  negro,  **Ya-oiw 
—look  out— here  a  big  devil  snake."  Looking  around  I 
caught  sight  of  several  inches  of  glistening  black  snake  rear- 
ed out  of  the  water  not  far  away  and  rapidly  coming 
nearer.  We  all  made  for  the  bank  in  the  greatest  of  hurry 
and  scrambled  out  in  time  to  see  the  reptile  come  out  of 
the  water  a  few  yards  lower  down.  I  honestly  believe  it 
was  fully  twelve  feet  long  and  perhaps  as  thick  as  a  man 's 
iwrist.  It  had  come  from  the  opposite  bank  and  probably 
was  quite  as  scared  as  we  were  when  the  negro  yelled  and 
we  splashed  in  our  efforts  to  escape.  It  quickly  glided  out 
of  sight  amongst  the  thick  undergrowth  on  the  bank;  and 

215 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


on  our  part  we  lost  no  time  in  getting  out  of  the  way,  too 
— the  iwater  had  lost  its  attractions  for  a  time.  We  were 
a  bit  nervous  for  some  hours  afterwards;  we  felt  haunted 
by  it,  not  knowing  but  what  it  might  turn  up  again,  (or 
one  like  it)  at  any  moment,  perhaps  from  some  branch 
overhead  or  some  hiding  place  b«low. 

About  dusk  we  began  to  prowl  about  for  game.  Pres- 
ently we  heard  Rip's  dog  "Spitz"  barking  furiously  a 
little  distance  aiway,  and  hurrying  up  to  the  place  we  heard 
something  scrambling  up  a  tree,  and  the  dog  was  capering 
and  barking  viciously  at  the  foot  of  it.  We  peered  around 
cautiously  and  at  last  Rip  said,  pointing  to  a  branch  above, 
"There  it  is.  It's  a  coendoo"  (that  is,  a  climbing  porcu- 
pine—an animal  with  a  prehensile  tail).  We  saw  what 
looked  something  like  a  gigantic  chestnut— a  big  lump  of 
spiky  bristles.  Rip  told  me  to  have  a  shot.  I  fired,  and  the 
beast  scrambled  a  few  feet  further  along  the  branch,  and 
then  slowly  slipped  off,  but  did  not  actually  fall,  for  we 
could  see  it  clinging  and  swinging  by  its  tail.  I  loaded 
again  and  slowly  raising  the  muzzle  of  my  gun  until  I 
just  covered  the  animal,  I  at  once  pulled  the  trigger 
and  the  coendoo  dropped  iwith  a  heavy  thud.  We  found  it 
dead  enough,  almost  cut  in  two.  The  first  shot  had  broken 
one  of  its  legs— so  both  shots  were  pretty  good.  We  pulled 
out  some  of  the  quills  and  went  on.  Rip  shot  a  sloth,  and 
he  and  I  got  a  few  opossums  also. 

With  one  of  the  latter,  we  had  a  little  extra  fun.  When 
it  fell,  my  father-in-law  ran  forward  to  it  and  picked  it 
up  by  its  tail,  as  he  had  seen  Rip  do  with  one  or  two  pre- 
viously. It  is  usual  to  skin  opossums  at  once,  the  flesh, 
though  eatable,  not  being  valued;  but  my  father-in-laiw 
was  carrying  this  away  bodily  for  some  reason.  All  at 
once  a  yell  of  pain  burst  from  him  and  he  dropped  his  bur- 
den. It  had  only  been  wounded,  and  as  it  hung  by  its 
tail  from  his  finger  it  had  curved  itself  upwards,  climbed 
its  own  tail,  and  bitten  his  hand. 

This  is  not  a  uncommon  trick  mth  these  animals.  This 
one  then  scuttled  away  for  the  nearest  tree  as  well  as  it 
could,  but  the  dog  pounced  upon  it  and  held  it  till  Rip 

216 


I 


THE   EMIGRANT. 


ended  its  worldly  troubles  and  adventures,  and  it  iwas  duly 
flayed. 

It  was  a  nearly  full  moon,  for  we  had  been  careful  to 
choose  such  a  night  for  our  hunt,  so  we  found  our  way 
about  easily.  We  had  roamed  about  for  a  couple  of  hours 
or  so  when  we  noticed  the  dog  excitedly  sniffing  about  and 
then  with  a  few  loiw  snaps  of  bark  make  off  in  a  sort  of 
ambling  canter  with  his  nose  to  the  ground.  "Spitz"  has 
got  something  good,  come  along  after  hinij ' '  said  Rip ;  and 
soon  !  stooping  down  and  looking  at  the  ground),  "Its 
peccaries,  I  think,"  he  added.  In  a  minute  or  two  we 
heard  Spitz  barking  at  high  pressure,  and  with  a  caution 
from  Rip,  "Now  boys,  be  careful— look  out  for  their 
tusks,"  and  with  instruction  as  to  what  we  were  to  do  we 
hurried  forward. 

We  found  Spitz  barking  away  opposite  the  end  of  a 
hollow  large  fallen  tree-trunk. 

' '  That  trunk  is  most  likely  loaded  full  up  with  peccaries ; 
they  go  in  backwards  for  the  night  A\dth  one  in  front  as 
sentry,  we'll  have  to  smoke  them  out,  I  expect,"  said  Rip. 
"First,  we'll  see  if  they've  got  a  back  door."  Leaving  us 
to  watch  the  front  door  with. the  help  of  the  dog,  he  cau- 
tiously examined  the  tree  and  at  last  found  a  hole  in  the 
side— through  a  broken  limb. 

We  three  with  guns  took  our  stand  to  one  side,  some 
little  distance  back  and  called  off  the  dog  so  that  we  could 
have  a  clear  field  for  shooting;  then  the  negro  lit  a  fire  at 
the  side  hole,  but  as  ill  luck  would  havo  it,  in  picking  up 
a  small  log  to  throw  on  the  fire  a  small  red  and  black  snake 
fell  out  of  it  and  so  scared  Sambo  that,  in  his  haste  to  leave 
the  snake  plenty  of  room,  he  forgot  all  about  the  peccaries 
and  bolted  obliquely  across  in  front  of  the  trunk  just  as 
the  peccaries  scared  by  the  smoke  and  fire  close  to  them 
and  forgetting  us  and  the  dog  came  rushing  out  as  though 
they  were  fired  out  of  a  huge  cannon.  In  an  instant  there 
was  a  collision  and  a  most  infernal  row ;  Sambo  was  jerked 
off  his  feet  and  fell  on  the  backs  of  the  rushing  herd, 
where  he  bumped  and  rolled  like  an  India-rubber  ball, 
howling  and  screaming  in  mortal  terror  until  they  passed 

217 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

• 
from  under  him,  and  they  (perhaps  more  terrified  than  he) 
squealing  and  snorting  like  a  mob  of  frenzied  fiends  until 
the  negro  was  left  sprawling  on  the  ground. 

For  the  moment  or  two  this  amazing  performance  lasted, 
the  rest  of  us  were  paralyzed  and  dumb ;  then  we  broke  into 
convulsive  laughter;  but  Rip  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
fire  at  the  disappearing  herd  and  managed  to  bring  down 
one  of  them.  I  and  my  father-in-law  were  helpless  iwith 
laughing.  It  was  not  the  mere  funniness  of  the  accident 
itself  but  the  exaggerated  distortion  of  Sambo's  face  as  h« 
kept  bumping  and  rolling  like  a  human  wheel,  and  his  an- 
tics and  elocution  afterwards  while  rubbing  and  feeling 
himself  all  over. 

"Oh,  Holy  Saints!  I'se  done  killed  dead!  I'se  broke 
everywhere !  I  tumble  over  an  earthquake— it  buck,  buck, 
buck  me  up  and  down  an'  roll  me  roun'  roll  an' 
roun'  till  I  lose  myself— and  (turning  savagely  to  us)  find 

some fools  laughing  at  a  poor  black  ghost ."  But 

finally  he  laughed  heartily  himself  as  he  shook  himself  to- 
gether again. 


218 


CHAPTER  XLIII 


I 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

POOR   EMPLOYMENT— A    JOLLIFICATION— FAREWELL    TO 
JIONVILLE. 

Our  ( well-to-do  fellow  countryman,  the  Doctor  of  Law, 
was  one  of  the  truest  and  rarest  type  of  gentleman,  for 
instead  of  receiving  us  icily  or  brusquely  as  so  many  would 
do,  he  was  most  courteous,  affable  and  hospitable,  ordering 
in  wine,  cake  and  fruit,  and  chatting  with  us  freely  and 
pleasantly.  I  fancy  he  must  have  felt  himself  out  of  his 
proper  element  as  a  lawyer  in  the  Fatherland. 

He  said  that  as  he  had  plenty  of  slaves  to  do  his  work, 
as  was  the  usual  custom  in  Brazil,  he  could  not  offer  much 
wages ;  but  he  would  find  us  something  to  do  if  iwe  cared  to 
accept  9d.  per  day  and  three  meals  daily.  I  suppose  that 
under  the  circumstances  it  was  a  fair  offer  on  his  part,  and 
as  we  could  see  no  alternative  the  bargain  was  concluded. 
If  we  could  have  left  that  locality  altogether  we  would  have 
gladly  done  so,  but  there  was  no  getting  away  for  us  just 
then.  There  was  only  one  small  steamer  trading  to  and  from 
the  port  at  intervals  of  six  or  eight  weeks,  sometimes  even 
longer,  and  the  fare  was  £1  to  only  Dona  Francisco;  so 
we  were  about  as  helpless  as  sailors  shipwrecked  on  some 
out-of-the-way  island. 

Next  morning  we  set  out  a  five  o'clock  as  we  had  to 
start  to  work  at  six.  Our  first  job  was  weeding  a  maize 
field,  but  we  soon  got  heartily  sick  of  it.  It  was  labor  in 
vain;  three  days  after  clearing  any  part,  the  weeds  were 
as  bad  there  as  ever.  The  Doctor  used  to  come  around 
about  eleven  o'clock  every  morning  dressed  in  a  white  suit 
and  an  enormous  straw  hat.     The  rest  of  the  day  he  us- 

219 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

nally  employed  in  hunting  butterflies  and  other  insects,  for 
he  was  an  enthusiastic  entomologist.  The  Brazilian  butter- 
flies are,  I  think,  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world.  The  Doc- 
tor used  to  sell  some  of  his  specimens  at  about  £4  each. 

Next,  I  and  one  of  my  mates  had  to  put  in  two  or  three 
days  finding  and  destroying  ant  nests.  These  ants  were 
great  brutes  nearly  two  inches  long,  and  there  were  mil- 
lions of  them. 

Then  for  a  couple  of  weeks  I  and  another  man  were  en- 
gaged felling  timber  from  which  to  build  a  stable. 

After  the  logs  had  been  dragged  to  the  house  by  horses, 
I  had  to  assist  the  carpenter.  First  we  had  to  cut  the  logs 
into  suitable  lengths  with  a  "cross-cut"  saw.  This  was 
pretty  heavy  iwork  for  any  one  not  used  to  it. 

The  second  day  we  were  at  this  cross-cutting  game,  the 
carpenter  happened  to  be  a  good  deal  the  worse  for  drink 
—the  poor  fellow  was  woefully  disappointed  (as  we  all 
were)  at  the  low  wages  he  was  getting— only  about  half 
what  he  had  received  in  Hamburg.  He  was  in  a  quarrel- 
some mood,  told  me  I  did  not  hold  the  saw  straight;  I  re- 
plied that  he  could  not  hold  himself  straight  let  alone  the 
saw.  Then  we  all  but  had  a  fight,  and  the  upshot  was  that 
I  got  the  Doctor  to  pay  me  off. 

The  fact  is,  I  had  long  decided  to  leave  the  place  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  in  order  to  raise  money  to  do  so  had,  when- 
ever the  chance  offered,  sold  some  of  my  clothing  and  a 
little  cheap  jewelry,  of  which  I  had  a  good  supply.  In 
this  way  I  had  now  about  £6  in  English  money,  and 
knowing  that  the  steamer  from  Dona  Francisco  was  ex- 
pected in  about  two  days,  I  was  anxious  to  take  passage 
on  her  return  trip. 

Now,  there  was  at  that  time  a  bill  before  the  Brazilian 
parliament,  providing  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  (which 
came  into  force  two  years  later).  The  planters  and  other 
slave  owners  had  had  for  centuries  their  labor  done  for 
them  for  next  to  nothing,  and  naturally  did  not  relish  the 
idea  of  having  to  pay  reasonably  for  laborers.  They  there- 
fore cast  about  for  the  cheapest  form  of  labor  obtainable. 

This  fact  led  to  an  agent  from  the  province  of  San  Paulo 

220 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

^iiearer  Rio  Janeiro)  arriving  at  Jionville  by  the  steamer 
J  was  waiting  for,  (his  object  being  to  engage  coffee  plan- 
tation hands  from  amongst  us  hard-pushed  emigrants; 
though  one  reason  no  doubt  was  that  we  had  a  reputation 
for  being  hard-working.  Well,  he  engaged  fifty  of  my  ship- 
mates at  low  piece-work  rates  (so  much  per  bushel)  and 
the  plantation-owner  to  supply  necessaries  from  his  otwn 
store  at  his  own  price,  and  a  free  trip  to  the  place. 

I  may  remark  at  once  that  the  scheme  worked  beautifully 
(for  the  owners),  for  when  the  harvest  was  over  and  pay 
time  came,  nearly  all  the  employees  found  that  owing  to 
being  charged  exhorbitant  prices  for  goods  supplied  they 
were  in  debt  to  the  planter,  and  they  had  to  remain  on 
the  plantation  until  the  debt  iwas  wiped  off,  if  ever  it  was. 
So  the  planters  managed  to  substitute  a  white  slavery  for 
the  black  one— and  so  it  is  in  many  countries  today, 
the  main  difference  is  that  instead  of  one  man  being  both 
employer  and  storekeeper  as  in  Brazil,  at  that  time,  in  most 
countries  he  is  replaced  by  a  small  crowd  who  share  those 
responsibilities  and  the  profits,  and  so  ^'you  cannot  see 
the  forest  for  the  trees/' 

The  night  before  leaving  Jionville,  the  25th  anniver- 
sary of  a  German  turn-verein  which  had  been  established 
there,  was  celebrated  by  means  of  a  torch-light  porcession 
and  a  concert  and  dance  at  the  little  saloon  or  hotel.  We 
new  chums  were  invited,  and  we  had  about  the  jolliest  time 
since  iwe  had  landed,  although  the  procession  had  to  wade 
nearly  knee  deep  through  the  muddy  paths  (for  it  had 
been  raining  heavily).  I  really  don't  know  how  I  got 
home  for  (Brazilian)  lager  beer  had  flowed  freely,  and  it 
was  altogether  too  tropical  for  me;  just  as  it  is  the  last 
straw  that  breaks  the  camel's  back,  so  it  is  the  last  glass 
that  overbalances  a  man,  and  you  seldom  know  which  is 
the  right  one  to  stop  at. 

The  jollifications  lasted  all  night,  and  I  iwas  lucky  not 
to  miss  the  steamer  at  six  o  'clock  in  the  morning  and  shake 
the  mud  of  that  wretched  hole  off  my  boots  forever.  I 
shouldn  't  care  to  have  lingered  there  twenty-five  years  even 
for  the  50th  anniversary  celebration. 

221 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  arrived  at  the  seaport  (Dona 
Francisco)  and  found  the  Hamburg  steamer  "Corrientes" 
lying-  at  anchor  with  a  fresh  consignment  of  emigrants  on 
board — simply  brought  out  to  be  starved  at  that  upcountry 
mudhole  into  becoming  cheap  labor  in  place  of  the  slaves. 

In  pity  for  them,  I  recounted  my  experiences  and  with 
so  much  effect  that  they  were  unwilling  to  leave  the  ship, 
and  it  was  only  after  having  all  their  luggage  bundled 
into  the  boats  waiting  for  them  that  the  captain  got  rid 
of  them. 


222 


CHAPTER  XLIV 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

I  GO  TO  SAN  PAULO— AND  TO  A  QUEER  HOSPITAL. 

As  I  hailed  from  Hamburg  myself,  I  was  well  received 
on  board  the  steamer,  and  invited  by  the  crew  to  join  them 
in  their  evening  meal;  it  was  the  heartiest  I  had  had  for 
nearly  three  months. 

The  following  day  we  steamed  up  to  Santos  again,  where 
I  and  those  going  to  San  Paulo  landed  and  had  to  stay 
overnight  in  a  shanty,  sleeping  on  mats.  Then  followed  for 
me  several  iweeks  of  vicissitudes  including  three  weeks  in 
hospital,  owing  to  a  severe  fever  contracted,  I  believe 
through,  while  on  the  steamer,  having  got  soaked  with  rain 
while  asleep  on  deck. 

I  will  only  give  cursorily  one  or  two  short  items  from 
this  period. 

From  Santos  we  had  to  go  by  train  to  San  Paulo,  a 
distance  of  about  30  miles— the  loveliest  journey  by  train 
I  ever  had.  About  six  miles  from  Santos  there  is  a  steep 
range  of  mountains  where  the  carriages  have  to  be  hauled 
up  by  a  steel  rope  to  a  height  of  about  1000  feet  above 
sea-level.  It  is  practically  the  same  principle  as  that  used 
for  cable  trams,  two  carriages  going  up  while  two  are  be- 
ing lowered.  The  ascent  is  so  steep  that  it  is  most  difficult 
to  retain  your  seat  even  with  the  aid  of  the  hands.  But 
the  views  obtained  are  indescribably  beautiful,  and  are 
still  vivid  in  my  memory.  Brazil  is  celebrated  for  the  un- 
equalled variety  and  magnificence  of  its  trees,  plants,  and 
flowers,  and  these  combined  in  an  ever  changing  panorama 
of  land  and  sea,  of  glowing  tropical  sunshine,  of  occasional 

223 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

deep  shadow  (for  there  were  heavy  rain  clouds  about  that 
day)  and  in  the  immense  range  of  vision  as  you  reach  the 
summit. 

When  all  the  carriages  had  been  hauled  up,  we  flew 
along  through  still  interesting  scenery  till  we  reached  San 
Paulo.  Here  on  the  station  I  met  my  friend  the  cap- 
maker, whom  I  had  helped  in  his  little  smuggling  adven- 
ture on  our  first  arrival  at  Santos. 

He  had  started  a  little  business  of  his  own  in  San  Paulo, 
and  at  his  invitation  I  stayed  with  him  a  few  days,  my  com- 
panions going  on  to  the  plantation  they  were  bound  for. 
It  was  here  that  the  attack  of  fever  compelled  me,  after 
consulting  a  Danish  doctor,  to  go  into  a  hospital,  and  it  was 
rather  a  wonder  I  ever  came  out  again,  owing  to  the  free- 
and-easy  ''nonchalant"  Portuguese  style  of  doing  things. 
It  seemed  to  be  a  convent  hospital,  for  it  was  in  charge 
of  nuns,  under  a  mother  superior ;  and  there  was  no  resi- 
dent doctor— the  only  local  doctor  calling  daily  at  dinner- 
time. But  in  fairness  I  must  at  once  say  that  the  "sis- 
ters" were  very  painstaking  and  kind,  when  they  once 
got  going. 

Thus,  I  arrived  in  the  afternoon  in  a  terribly  weak  state ; 
no  doctor  about;  the  mother  superior  asked  me  some  ques- 
tion which  was  unintelligible  to  me,  as  was  my  answer  to 
her;  then  she  went  off  leaving  me  in  the  hall.  At  last  an 
old  Swiss  came  along  to  act  as  interpreter,  and  after  much 
delay  a  bed  was  prepared  for  me  next  to  him,  and  there 
I  was  placed  and  left.  But  he  noticed  my  serious  con- 
dition and  had  the  good  sense  to  suggest  to  the  mother 
that  if  I  did  no  get  some  medicine  quickly  I  very  likely 
would  not  live  till  the  doctor  called  next  day.  She  came 
and  had  another  look  at  me,  but  appeared  rather  troubled, 
but  seemed  to  think  it  was  entirely  a  matter  for  provi- 
dence and  not  for  her  to  interfere  in— if  it  was  God's 
will  that  I  should  die,  well  I  would  die  with  or  without 
medicine ;  and  if  I  was  not  ordained  to  die,  then  it  would 
be  mere  foolishness  to  hurry  up  the  doctor.  So  her  piety 
evidently  dictated,  for  I  gathered  that  no  doctor  would 
be  sent  for. 

224 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Then  my  fellow-patient  urged  that  I  should  be  given 
some  of  the  .medicine  prescribed  for  any  other  fever  patient, 
and  that  was,  after  some  hesitation,  accordingly  done. 
When  the  doctor  called  next  day  he  approved  of  the  course 
taken,  which  in  all  probability  had  saved  my  life,  for  that 
fever  is  very  dangerous. 

But,  as  I  said  before,  the  mother  and  sisters  were  very 
kind  and  attentive,  once  they  began,  and  I  felt  very  deeply 
indebted  to  them.  Though  we  could  only  converse  with 
the  help  of  the  Swiss,  I  could  read  tenderness  and  sym- 
pathy in  their  expressive  eyes  and  anxious  faces,  and  that 
perhaps  greatly  helped  the  doctor's  medicine.  Probably 
they  were  worrying  quite  as  much  about  my  un-orthodox 
soul  as  about  my  bodily  health. 

After  three  weeks,  notwithstanding  the  doctor's  strong 
dissuasion,  I  insisted  on  leaving  and  returned  to  my 
friend's  house.  He  welcomed  me  heartily,  dosed  me  with 
spirits,  in  a  week  I  was  well  again. 

Then  I  tried  two  or  three  jobs  of  very  hard  iwork— but 
for  very  little  pay ;  my  great  drawback  being  my  inability 
to  speak  Portuguese  or  Spanish. 

By  this  time  I  was  utterly  sick  and  tired  of  Brazil  and 
of  roughing  it  as  I  had  done  all  for  nothing  and  no  chance 
of  anything  worth  speaking  of.  I  had  been  far  better  off 
at  home,  so  I  resolved  to  get  back  there  somehow,  without 
loss  of  time. 

With  this  object  I  began  to  sell  off  everything  I  could 
do  without,  for  I  had  still  some  good  clothes  and  a  few 
other  articles  left.  By  this  means  I  raised  another  £7. 
Then  I  bade  my  friend,  the  capmaker,  "good  bye,"  and 
tramped  down  to  Santos  again. 

I  had  to  wait  two  weeks  for  a  steamer,  so  meantime,  as 
I  desired  to  take  home  to  my  dear  wife  as  much  money 
as  I  could— though  I  had  never  had  a  line  from  her  since 
leaving  home— I  took  a  job  as  bottle-washer  at  a  hotel  for 
only  my  "tucker."  It  is  by  doing  little  things  in  this  way 
that  success  comes  latei;. 

At  last  the  steamer  arrived,  and  as  soon  as  I  could  I 
saw  the  captain,  a  very  rough  and  gruff  elderly  man,  but, 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

as  often  with  such  men,  he  had  a  kind  heart  under  his 
hard  shell— a  sort  of  human  oyster.  There  iwere  several 
other  men  trying  to  get  a  passage,  but  after  some  diplo- 
macy on  my  part,  I  was  the  lucky  one  and  that  afternoon 
was  shipped  by  the  purser  at  the  German  Consulate. 


226 


CHAPTER  XV 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

MY    RETURN    HOME— A    MASK    BAIX,. 

When  I  found  myself  fairly  on  the  steamer  homeward 
bound  from  that  land  like  a  Dead  Sea  apple — outwardly 
beautiful,  but  filled  with  ashes  of  disappointment — to  my 
native  land  and  my  wife— the  choicest  apple  on  earth  to  me, 
I  can  tell  you  a  ton  weight  seemed  to  roll  off  my  heart,  and 
I  looked  forward  (with  joyful  eagerness  to  the  end  of  my 
journey,  pleased  that  though  I  had  no  fortune  to  take  home 
I  had  at  all  events  a  little  ready  money  in  hand  for  my 
wife.    I  was  a  fool  for  my  pains. 

My  work  was  not  heavy,  principally  keeping  the  brass- 
work  of  the  ship  clean  and  washing  out  a  few  cabins,  and 
nobody  troubled  much  about  me.  My  bunk  was  in  the 
assistant  engineer 's  cabin,  and  finding  during  the  trip  that 
he  intended  giving  up  a  sea-faring  life  as  soon  as  he  reach- 
ed home,  at  his  suggestion  I  applied  to  the  chief  engineer 
for  the  position  and  later  on  got  and  kept  it  for  some  time. 

We  called  at  Rio,  Bahia,  and  Lisbon,  loitering  a  little 
at  each,  to  my  great  impatience;  and  even  when  going  at 
full  speed  between  ports  the  great  vessel  seemed  to  be 
only  lazily  creeping  along,  and  the  tiresome  steady  puls- 
ing of  her  engines  got  on  my  nerves  and  threatened  to 
drive  me  crazy.  For  all  the  little  tiffs  and  jars  of  married 
life  had  been  forgotten,  and  with  all  the  infatuation  of  a 
lover,  I  pictured  my  lovely  little  blue-eyed  sweetheart  and 
wife,  pictured  and  lived  over  again  the  sweet  days  of  court- 
ship and  early  marriage— pictured  her  thinking  of  and 
waiting  to  warmly  iwelcome  me  as  of  old,  every  lover  and 


227 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

fond  husband  will  know  how  I  hungered  and  thirsted  for 
her. 

At  last  the  ship  is  in  the  North  Sea,  I  can  smell  my 
native  air  and  I  breathe  deep  draughts  of  it.  At  last 
I  see  the  low  grey  line  on  the  starboard  bow  which  I  knoiw 
is  the  dear  old  Fatherland.  A  low  plume  of  smoke  comes 
slowly  out  from  that  distant  low  shore.  Underneath  it 
soon  shows  a  small  black  object  which  steadily  comes  nearer 
and  grows  larger  and  larger  until  it  rushes  by  on  the  port 
side  an  enormous  steam  vessel  laden  with  more  emigrants 
from  my  native  city.  We  wave  and  cheer  to  each  other; 
I-  feel  as  if  they  iwere  personal  friends.  And  now  we  slowly 
round  into  the  wide  estuary  of  the  Elbe,  and  I  begin  to  feel 
that  I  am  really  home  once  more,  and  we  come  into  sight 
of  the  old  familiar  spots  and  glide  swiftly  by  them,  and 
here  we  are  passing  the  old  familiar  forest  of  masts  and 
the  serried  mass  of  buildings  and  into  the  smoke  laden  air 
cold,  by  the  way,  for  it  is  early  spring— and  we  slow  down 
and  gently  glide  up  to  the  wharf,  and  there  is  a  bump  as 
the  ship  touches;  we  are  home,  home,  home.  There  is  a 
small  crowd  waiting  and  I  see  a  few  faces  I  recognize, 
bat  not  my  wife ;  for  I  have  wished  to  give  her  a  pleasant 
surprise,  and  so  she  does  not  know  I  am  coming. 

First  I  go  to  a  bootshop  to  replace  my  worn-out  foot- 
gear, then  I  take  a  cab  and  am  naw  rattling  fast  over  the 
well-known  streets  to  my  home  and  the  delighted  embrace 
of  my  wife— so  I  thought.  The  cab  stops,  I  get  out  and 
walk  through  the  shop  into  the  little  room  at  the  back. 
Perhaps  you  think  I  find  a  rival  comfortably  ensconced 
there?  No,  it  was  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  though  there 
was  another  person  with  my  wife— a  lady.  But  instead 
of  the  ecstatic  iwelcome  I  had  pictured  and  famished  for, 
my  wife  starts  up  with  a  blush  aod  a  look  of  terror  and 
confusion  and  then  promptly  falls  into  a  seeming  faint. 
Whether  it  was  a  real  faint  or  only  one  of  convenience  I 
really  don't  know,  for  she  had  such  a  knack  or  habit  of 
fainting  when  occasion  suited  that  their  phenomena  al- 
ways aroused  my  suspicion. 

The  place  was  piled  and  littered  with  foolish  fripperies. 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

for  it  appeared  that  she  and  her  friend  were  making  them- 
selves fancy  dresses  for  a  mask  ball— a  nice  thing  for  a 
married  woman,  whose  husband  is  supposed  to  be  far  away 
to  be  doing! 

I  felt  even  a  worse  shock  than  when  I  first  saw  Jionville. 
I  was  deeply  disappointed  and  hurt,  suspicious  and  jealous-, 
and  though  my  wife  later  on  tried  in  a  half-hearted  and 
forced  kind  of  iway  to  make  a  show  of  welcoming  me  and 


LIBd 


made  excuses  and  explanations,  I  was  very  far  from  satis- 
fied. 

That  fainting  fit,  if  such  it  really  was,  lasted  a  long  time, 
longer  than  most  in  my  experience.  I  am  not  going  to 
rashly  say  it  was  not  the  genuine  eighteen  carat  article,  but 
we  husbands  are  apt  to  be  at  least  mild  agnostics  if  not 
sinful  skeptics  in  such  cases:  **Once  bitten,  twice  shy,'* 
you  know.  Not  being  a  medical  man,  I  cannot  confidently 
make  a  diagnosis;  but  to  help  the  better  informed  reader 
to  judge,  I  may  shortly  describe  the  symptoms: 


229 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


Her  graceful  form  lay  straight  and  rigid  with  tightly 
closed  hands,  eyes  closed  and  head  turned  away,  a  rather 
heightened  color  on  her  fair  cheeks,  her  breathing  rather 
rapid  and  heavy,  her  lips  and  jaw  firmly  set.  Her  friend 
was  in  a  great  state  of  sympathetic  agitation,  kneeling  by 
my  wife,  slapping  her  hands,  holding  smelling  salts  (magi- 
cally produced  from  some  mysterious  portion  of  her  own 
attire)  to  the  patient's  nose,  and  calling  to  her  in  endear- 
ing coaxing  terms,  while  I  stood  by  like  a  wooden  dummy, 
but  with  half  a  dozen  different  inclinations  of  mind  which 
I  had  better  not  define.  The  friend  ''bully-rags"  me  un- 
mercifully, orders  me  peremptorily  to  g«t  a  feather  and 
burn  it  under  my  wife's  nose,  and  I  sheepishly  obeyed,  but 
with  no  effect  except  a  smothered  sneeze  and  a  slig'ht  turn- 
ing further  away  of  the  head.  The  mistress  of  ceremonies 
orders  a  small  dose  of  brandy  or  schnapps,  and  this  I  also 
produce ;  only  result,  a  slight  gasping  convulsion  and  more 
bully-ragging  from  the  amateur  nurse.  I  suggest  a  doctor, 
and  begin  to  have  a  half  presentiment  that  an  undertaker 
may  be  ultimately  necessary.  The  doctor  and  I  are  equally 
scorned ;  then  I  recommend  a  bucket  of  cold  water  and  act- 
ually go  for  it,  but  am  called  back  and  find  my  wife  re- 
covering in  sections,  as  it  were — a  pretty  tedious  process, 
too.  The  whole  performance  took  much  longer  than  even 
it  has  to  write  about  it  or  you  to  read,  and  if  I  had  any 
proper  feelings  as  a  husband  no  doubt  I  ought  to  have  been 
reduced  to  a  state  of  abashed  and  abject  penitence  for  my 
shameful  misdeeds— whatever  they  were.  But  callous  brute 
that  I  was  (lady  readers  will  unanimously  endorse  this,  I 
know)  I  iwas  not  repentant,  not  in  the  least;  on  the  con- 
trary I  was  obstinately  more  irritated  than  before. 
'With  much  further  fussing  help  from  her  friend,  my 
wife  gradually  regains  a  seat,  seeming  as  yet  quite  uncon- 
scious of  my  unworthy  presence.  Another  dose  of  spirit  is 
administered  and  slowly,  very  slowly,  imbibed— with  many 
grimaces  and  distressing  shudders  and  half  stifled  groaning 
(ladies  usually  take  stimplants  in  this  style— unless  they 
are  sharing  in  some  conviviality).     Then  the  patient,  still 


230 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

unconscious  of  the  delinquent  husband,  must  lie  perfectly 
quiet  on  the  sofa ! 

All  this  affords  ample  time  for  the  "weaker  vessel"  to 
collect  its  wits  and  prepare  for  action. 

At  last  the  news  of  my  presence  is  gently,  very  gently 
broken  to  my  wife  by  her  loyal  friends,  and  the  fragile 
spirit  that  has  just  been  restored  like  Persephone  to  this 
upper  world  welcomes  me  with  the  faint  smile  and  hand 
touch  of  a  saintly  ghost. 

I  am  permitted  an  icily  chaste  kiss,  a  ghost  itself,  and  it 
is  hours  before  I  get  a  chance  to  catechise  or  reprove. 

This  ethereal  sort  of  reception  was  not  at  all  according  to 
the  specifications  my  poor  unspiritualized  human  imagina- 
tion had  drawn  up ;  but  if  a  man  will,  after  prolonged  ab- 
sence, foolishly  drop  in  unawares  upon  such  a  hypersensi- 
tive being  as  a  wife,  what  better  can  he  expects  On  the 
whole  it  is  perhaps  better  to  "expect  nothing,  and  you  will 
not  be  disappointed, ' '  as  the  wise  old  adage  says. 

At  last  my  greatly  tried  wife  is  fairly  convalescent 
and  "takes  the  bull  by  the  horns,"  as  the  saying  is  by 
severely  catechising  me.  "Why  did  I  not  write?"  "Why 
did  I  not  reply  to  her  letter  of  such  and  such  a  date ? "  (a 
purely  fictitious  epistle).  "She  has  been  so  anxious  about 
me;"  I  "might  at  least  have  sent  a  verbal  message  on 
ahead  by  some  street  boy,  just  to  prevent  the  shock  of  so 
sudden  an  appearance, "  "  or  if  I  had  only  knocked ; "  "  but 
no,  men  are  so  thoughtless  of  their  poor  wives."  "How 
was  her  father  jwhen  I  left  him?"  She  often  used  to  think 
that  perhaps  we  were  both  swallowed  by  lions,  or  tigers,  or 
elephants,  or  giraffes,  or  something,"  and  so  she  rattled  on, 
with  now  and  then,  "Oh  my  poor  head— it  is  splitting." 

I  tried  several  times  to  turn  the  conversation,  but  every 
such  effort  is  disastrous  to  "the  poor  head."  At  last  I 
savagely  blurt  out,  "Look  here,  Dora,  I  want  to  know  how 
it  is  you  can  go  to  mask  balls  when  I  am  away  from  home 
in  a  distant  land  and  fretting  my  life  out  about  you ;  it  is 
a  nice  thing  for  a  respectable  married  woman  to  go  to  any 
such  affair  when  her  husband  is  away ! ' ' 

The  head  forgot  to  "split"  this  time,  and  right  sharp 

281 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

and  swiftly  poured  out  her  reply— like  wine  or  lager-bee: 
from  a  bottle,— '*  Oh,  Uncle  Friedrioh  and  Aunt  Sophi 
and  several  other  friends  were  going,  and  Uncle  and  Aun 
had  sent  her  a  ticket,  and  she  had  at  first  refused,  and  the; 
had  called  and  persuaded  her,  *It  would  do  her  good,  she 
was  moping  so, '  and  she  was  so  glad  I  was  home  in  time  to 
go  with  her,"  and  a  whole  rigmarole  more,  so  that  it  was 
several  minutes  before  I  could  get  another  word  in  edge- 
ways. Then  her  fancy  dress  was  produced  and  descanted 
upon  and  my  opinion  *^ked  and  insisted  upon,  and  I  was 
fairly  swept  off  my  feet  and  so  deluged  in  chatter  that  I 
was  pretty  nearly  drowned— a  tropical  rain  in  Brazil  was 
nothing  to  it. 

Gradually  the  domestic  sky  cleared,  the  connubial  sun  be- 
gan to  shine  once  more,  and  Dora  was  again  something  like 
her  own  vivacious  winning  self.  Finally,  after  protracted 
feminine  arguments  as  to  the  desirability  of  both  of  us  go- 
ing to  this  coming  ball,  the  downright  necessity  (from  two 
or  three  points  of  view)  of  going,  reiterations  of  her  delight 
that  she  could  have  me  with  her  (please  imagine  here  an 
artistic  accompaniment  of  blandishments  and  cajolery)  — 
I  **must  go,'^  I  ** should  go"  (a  good  vigorous  shaking  at 
this  point  as  though  I  were  some  naughty  child)— and, 
** Please  do  go"  (with  melting  pathos  and  persuasive  arms 
and  eyes) ;  so  that  as  a  love-lorn  husband  I  was  ultimately 
subdued  into  first  tacit  and  then  formal  consent  to  take  her 
myself.  Perhaps  my  own  passion  for  dancing  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  it. 

This  fancy  dress  ball  took  place  a  few  days  later  and 
was  a  brilliant  affair,  and  for  some  time  Dora  and  I  both 
enjoyed  ourselves  immensely.  She  went  as  Queen  Lido, 
or  Litania,  or  Helen  of  Troy,  or  some  such  resplendent  per- 
sonage (I  forget  exactly  which),  and  I  for  economy's  sake 
in  some  nondescript  character  built  up  mainly  by  second- 
hand garments  from  our  shop. 

After  the  unmasldng  at  about  midnight  I  came  across 
one  of  the  stewards  on  our  ship,  had  the  necessary  friendly 
drink  with  him,  and  introduced  him  to  my  wife ;  I  noticed 
a  look  of  surprise  on  his  face  and  a  little  constraint  in  her 

232 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


manner.  Like  most  sea-faring  men  he  was  a  gay,  breezy- 
mannered  Sort  of  fellow,  and  as  we  strolled  away  together 
he  remarked  in  an  off  handed  jocular  way,  ''Oh,  I  think 
I've  met  that  lady  before  at  a  dancing  saloon  in  St.  Pauli 
iwhen  I  was  here  last  trip;  my  word,  she  is  a  splendid  dan- 
cer, I  danced  with  her  nearly  all  the  evening  and  we  had 
a  real  good  time  together. ' ' 

'I  could  have  knocked  him  down  when  he  said  this,  but 
did  not  like  to  make  a  scene  in  the  ballroom,  and  besides, 
even  if  what  he  said  and  hinted  was  true,  he  did  not  on  that 
former  occasion  know  who  she  was — so  that  I  felt  he  could 
hardly  be  blamed.  But  as  soon  as  an  opportunity  occurred 
I  hurried  over  to  my  wife  and  taking  her  on  one  side  told 
her  what  the  steward  had  said  about  her,  and  asked  if  it 
was  true. 

At  first  she  grew  very  pale  and  I  thought  she  was  going 
to  faint  in  reality;  but  suddenly  her  face  flushed  and  her 
eyes  blazed,  and  she  indignantly,  angrily  denied  that  she 
had  ever  seen  that  man  before;  she  vowed  that  she  had 
never  been  to  that  dancing  saloon  since  I  left,  and  told  me 
I  was  a  brute  to  believe  any  such  tales  about  my  wife,  and 
asked  me  to  take  her  home  at  once. 

I  hardly  knew  (what  to  think,  for  I  was  naturally  unwill- 
ing to  believe  anything  serious  against  my  wife's  honor 
and  had  always  had  the  highest  opinion  of  her  in  that  re- 
spect. I  knew  also  that  many  men  take  an  evil  delight  in 
maldng  false  boasts  about  women,  or  to  try  to  make  hus- 
bands jealous  just  for  the  sake  of  what  they  think  a  joke. 
This  steward  seemed  likely  to  be  that  sort  of  man ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  was  the  surprise  I  had  noticed  on  his 
face  and  her  rather  unusual  manner  when  I  introduced 
them.  I  didn't  know  what  course  to  take:  I  could  hardly 
confront  them  in  such  a  place,  so  my  wife  and  I  went  home 
and  an  anen'y  time  of  it  we  had,  each  finding  fault  and  at 
last  subsiding  into  sullen  silence. 


233 


CHAPTER  XLVl 


k 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

CONSUMING  FIRES. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  ball,  while  my  wife  happened  to 
be  out  on  some  errand,  the  wife  of  my  next  door  neighbor— 
an  elderly  dame— seized  the  opportunity  to  come  in  and  in- 
form me  that  my  wife  and  her  own  daughter  had  been  to 
every  mask-ball  going  on— about  t)wo  or  three  every  week. 
She  said  she  had  expostulated  with  both  her  daughter  and 
my  wife,  had  told  the  latter  that  no  married  woman  ought 
to  go  to  such  things  without  her  husband's  permission.  She 
told  me  also  what  my  wife  had  said  in  reply,  and  that  she 
herself  thought  it  her  duty  as  a  friend  to  let  me  know  about 
these  facts. 

This  seemed  to  accord  with  the  steward's  statement  at 
the  ball,  and  to  show  that  my  wife  had  deliberately  lied  to 
me  on  the  evening  of  my  return,  when  she  said  she  had  only 
been  to  two  or  three  such  affairs,  and  then  only  with  Herr 
and  Frau  Wensler.  I  had  myself  seen  clearly  and  know  be- 
yond doubt  how  common  were  unfaithfulness  and  unehas- 
tity,  and  you  can  therefore  sufficiently  imagine  my  intense 
anguish  of  mind  when  I  found  what  strong  grounds  existed 
for  the  most  horrible  suspicions  against  that  wife  whom  J 
had  so  passionately  loved,  whose  memory  and  image  had 
during  my  absence  been  always  present  with  me  as  that  of 
a  pure,  sweet,  and  loving  woman— loving  only  me— for  I 
had  not  doubted  her— that  wife  to  whom  I  had  been  so 
rigidly  faithful.  From  the  moment  of  my  unexpected  re- 
appearance every  incident  seemed  to  testify  against  her, 
'^ Guilty,  guilty." 

235 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

I  was  for  a  time  little  better  than  a  madman,  half  uncon- 
scious of  my  thoughts  and  actions.  I  only  know  that  I  fum- 
ed, and  raged,  and  restlessly  paced  up  and  doiwn  that  little 
back  room  until  my  wife's  return,  upon  which  I  broke  out 
upon  her  in  a  furious  storm  of  accusations  and  cross-ques- 
tioning. It  seemed  as  though  all  my  former  love  for  her 
had  burst  forth  in  a  white-hot  lava  torrent  of  intense  loath- 
ing and  hatred,  as  though  I  could  kill  her  on  the  spot.  Yet 
amidst  it  all  there  was  still  the  same  consuming  fire  and 
tenderness  within,  even  though  it  did  break  out  in  passion- 
ate anger;  nor  could  I  help  some  promptings  of  gentle  pity 
at  the  sight  of  her  uncontrollable  womanly  distress  and  at- 
tempts at  self-defense;  and  in  defending  herself  she,  of 
course,  tried  to  attack  me,  for  women  are  always  adepts  at 
"carrying  the  war  into  the  enemy's  camp." 

First,  amidst  a  storm  of  hysterical  sobs,  she  insists  that 
she  has  not  gone  to  more  than  two  or  three  mask  balls,— 
"There  was  one  at  the  Altona  Town  Hall  on  such  and  such 
a  night  that  Uncle  Friedrich  and  Aunt  Sophia  had  invited 
her  to  and  she  had  gone  as  she  told  me  before  with  Frau 
and  Herr  Wensler;  she  had  not  wanted  to  go,  but  Uncle 
and  Aunt  had  sent  her  a  ticket  and  pressed  her  to  go  and 
she  did  not  like  to  refuse."  "Then  there  was  a  Charity 
mask-ball  at  St.  Pauli"  with  another  long  explanation, 
"and  one  given  at  Neumuhlen  by  the  amateur  theatrical 
troupe  she  had  belonged  to  and  to  this  also  she  had  gone 
with  the  Wenslers. "  "She  had  never  gone  to  any  with 
Fraulein  next  door,  but  Fraulein  had  been  present  at  two 
of  those  she  herself  had  gone  to. " 

"Had  she  not  been  to  such  and  such  places  on  such  and 
such  dates  with  Fraulein?"  I  asked.  "No,  it  was  a  lie  of 
that  spiteful  old  cat  next  door,"  says  my  wife,  "Do  I  be- 
lieve such  an  old  mischief -making  gossip,  and  that  horrid 
low  steward  man,  rather  than  my  own  true  wife  who  has 
been  thinking  fondly  of  me  every  minute  of  every  day  since 
I  so  unkindly  left  her?,"  and  another  storm  of  choking 
sobs  overcomes  her,  during  which  I  further  cross-question 
and  accuse,  the  most  definite  information  iwhich  I  elicit  be- 
ing to  the  effect  that  I  am  "an  unkind,  jealous,  evil-think- 

236 


I 


THE   EMIGRANT. 


in^  brute ;  she  wishes  she  had  never  met  me ;  wishes  her  poor 
mother  was  alive,  so  that  she  could  go  home  to  her/'  ''she 
is  only  sorry  she  didn't  go  to  every  one  of  those  mask-balls 
and  other  places— she  might  just  as  well  have  done  so  as 
stay  home  in  solitary  misery  for  nothing, ' '  and  so  on. 

But  I  am  not  overcome  by  all  this  feminine  blank  firing : 
I  remorselessly  press  my  charges  and  show  that  I  can  easily 
find  out  which  is  the  real  truth,  her  account  or  that  of  Frau 
Neighbor's.  Then  my  wife  gradually  weakens  and  gives 
way,  admits  that  she  did  go  with  Fraulein  next  door  a  good 
many  times,  but— here  gives  a  string  of  further  plausible 
excuses  and  again  attacks  me  for  leaving  her  and  affirms 
strenuously  that  she  has  done  nothing  wrong— has  never 
even  flirted  with  any  man  either  at  those  places  or  else- 
where— while  she  supposes  /  have  been  enjoying  myself 
with  some  of  those  gay  free-and-easy  Spanish  and  half- 
caste  girls  abroad. 

This,  of  course,  put  me  to  some  extent  on  my  own  defense. 
I  assured  her  (and  with  the  strictest  truth)  that  I  have 
been  most  honorably  faithful  to  herself,  that  I  had  only 
left  her  as  she  well  know  partly  to  better  my  position  for 
her  own  sake,  and  partly  for  the  sake  of  my  health ;  that  I 
had  continually  fretted  about  her,  especially  as  I  never  had 
a  letter  or  any  other  message  from  her — how  I  used  to  en- 
quire at  the  Post  Office  after  the  arrival  of  the  monthly 
mail  and  go  away  disappointed;  and  that  it  was  largely  this 
anxiety  and  fretting  and  desire  to  be  with  her  again  that 
had  brought  me  home  again  so  soon. 

At  this  point  she  seized  the  opportunity  to  try  to  make 
peace  by  a  show  of  impulsive  wifely  commiseration  and 
fondling,  and  to  some  extent,  perhaps,  manlike,  I  succumb- 
ed ;  but  the  bitter  doubts  and  soreness  of  heart  remained ; 
and  in  fact,  though  I  could  not  help  still  loving  her  intense- 
ly in  a  painful  sort  of  fashion,  I  could  never  afterwards 
feel  the  same  towards  her  as  I  had  once  felt.  Misery 
rankled  in  my  heart  for  the  remaining  day  or  two  I  had  in 
port,  and  it  was  with  positive  relief  that  after  a  sleepless 
night  I  packed  my  portmanteau  and  went  on  board  to  at- 
tend to  my  daily  duties  there ;  and  without  returning  home 

237 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

or  seeing  my  wife  again  for  the  time  being,  left  on  my  sec-' 
ond  voyage  to  Brazil— this  time  as  an  assistant  engineer  in- 
stead of  as  an  emigrant. 

Knowing  my  wife's  father  so  intimately  as  I  did,  and 
there  being  such  a  close  personal  resemblance  between  them, 
I  could  not,  but  feel  that  she  had  inherited  also  his  moral 
complexion,  iwhich,  as  you  have  seen,  was  decidedly  notice- 
able in  any  company. 

I  have  omitted  to  mention  that  the  day  following  my  un- 
expected return  from  Brazil  my  wife  gently  broke  to  me 
the  fact  that  she  owed  the  landlord  £3  for  rent.  This  meant, 
of  course,  that  the  money  that  should  have  been  devoted  to 
that  purpose  had  gone  towards  various  extravagances  such 
as  those  mask-balls.  I  paid  this  and  a  few  other  liabilities 
and  so  went  the  few  pounds  I  had  brought  home  by  dint  of 
hard  work  and  self-denial. 


238 


i 


CHAPTER  XLVII 


p 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

LIFE  AS  A  ship's  ENGINEER. 


I  must  now  resume  my  iwanderings  and  incidents  con- 
nected therewith. 

Our  good  ship  (which  for  convenience  sake  I  will  call  the 
*'Bahia,"  having  reasons  for  not  giving  its  true  name)  had 
been  a  fortnight  in  port  at  Hamburg  to  allow  overhaul  of 
machinery  as  well  as  discharge  and  reloading  of  cargo. 

I  had  been  accepted  and  officially  shipped  as  assistant  en- 
gineer, so  that  from  this  time  I  may  claim  to  be  classed  as 
a  sailor— of  the  modern  type. 

In  spite  of  my  anguish  of  mind  and  anger  against  my 
wife  I  did  not  at  all  like  leaving  her,  but  I  could  not  easily 
withdraw  from  my  engagement,  nor  having  once  resolved 
on  that  occupation  did  I  desire  to.  Both  at  the  time  and 
throughout  the  (whole  voyage  I  very  keenly  felt  my  wife's 
conduct  and  our  consequent  estrangement — the  shattering 
of  our  love  romance. 

I  made  several  voyages  on  the  same  ship  to  and  from 
Brazil,  each  voyage  occupying  about  three  months — once 
or  twice  a  little  longer  owing  to  delays  or  extensions  of 
the  trip  to  other  ports  than  the  usual  places  of  call,  namely ; 
Lisbon,  Bahia,  Rio  de  Janeiro,  Santos,  and  back  in  reverse 
order. 

I  was  in  the  Second  Engineer 's  watch,  from  12  to  4,  both 
a.m.  and  p.m.,  and  in  addition  generally  had  extra  duties 
in  connection  >with  the  engines  to  perform  between  those 
regular  watches,  our  Chief  Engineer  being  very  conscien- 
tious and  exacting  as  regards  his  charge. 

239 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

My  immediate  superior,  the  Second  Engineer,  besides 
being  a  capable  officer,  was  a  pleasant  enough  man  to  work 
with,  and  without  neglecting  duty  managed  to  make  him- 
self very  good  company  both  in  the  engine  room  and  in 
our  own  cabin ;  for  he  had  a  good  stock  of  conversational 
knowledge,  amusing  yarns  of  varied  flavor,  choice  cigars, 
and  the  best  *'Kummel." 

'Sea-faring  men  have  always  been  noted  for  rollicking 
habits  and  as  hard  drinkers  when  on  shore— afloat,  too,  if 
they  get  the  chance.  The  crews  of  modern  steam  vessels 
are  much  the  same  in  these  respects  as  the  older  style  of 
Jack  Tar,  only  that  the  engine-room 's  and  stoke-hole 's  con- 
finement and  heat  produce  the  finest  tropical  specimens,  for 
firemen  and  stokers  are  as  a  rule  about  as  rough,  tough,  and 
sulphurous  a  lot  of  sinners  as  you  can  find,  fearfully  hard 
drinkers,  and  when  drunk  a  good  deal  worse  to  manage 
than  a  menagerie  of  wild  animals.  Sober,  they  are  in  many 
respects  first-rate  fellows,  good-hearted,  generous,  and  most- 
ly heroic  when  occasion  offers;  but  when  they  have  been 
stoking  themselves  with  strong  liquid  fuel,  plenty  of  them 
are  like  ferocious  fiends  and  would  not  hesitate  if  irri- 
tated to  knock  anybody  whatever  down  with  a  fire  shovel 
or  stoking  iron.  So  there  is  a  strict  law  against  their 
bringing  spirits  on  board,  though  they  get  an  allowance 
twice  during  each  watch  and  therefore  do  not  need  a  pri- 
vate stock.  Nevertheless,  they  often  manage  to  smuggle 
some  on  board.  To  prevent  this  as  far  as  possible,  two 
detectives  visit  the  ship  and  search  the  forecastle  and 
other  likely  places  for  concealed  liquor. 

But  ''Jack"  is  as  tricky  and  resolute  as  a  woman  when 
his  mind  is  set  on  anything  and  seldom  fails  to  attain  his 
object,  and  the  little  device  used  on  this  occasion  to  elude 
official  vigilance  will  serve  as  an  amusing  instance. 

About  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  on  the  day  of  sailing 
the  two  detectives  arrived  to  make  their  inspection.  They 
had  some  pretty  strong  clues  to  start  with,  for  two  of  the 
hands  were  dead  drunk  in  their  bunks;  another  seemed  to 
be  doing  a  sort  of  paralyzed  hornpipe  with  his  feet  as  he 
stumbled  around,  while  with  tanked  and  droning  articu- 

240 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

lation  he  held  forth  dogmatically  and  distressively  on  poli- 
tics, theology,  women,  profanity  and  sundry  other  edifying 
subjects,  while  his  huge  nose  gleamed  like  a  coal  ember  just 
out  of  the  fire-box  (we  shall  hear  more  of  him  later)  ; 
and  one  or  two  others  were  also  manifestly  "under  the  in- 
fluence." Yet  none  of  these  men  had  been  ashore  since 
the  previous  day,  so  it  was  plain  there  must  be  contra- 
band liquor  on  board  and  within  their  reach.  The  detec- 
tives searched  high  and  low,  turned  out  bunks  and  sea- 
chests,  opened  everything  that  could  possibly  contain  a 
bottle  however  small;  sniffed  suspiciously  at  hair-oil  bot- 
tles, pots  of  blacking,  and  the  like;  even  opened  one  or 
two  stray  bibles  and  albums  on  the  chance  of  their  covers 
being  hollow  shams;  tried  all  the  ship's  fittings,  the  bulk- 
heads, and  all  the  places  their  experience  and  sagacity  sug- 
gested, and  departed  at  last  baffled.  Had  they  returned  an 
hour  later  they  would  have  found  the  forecastle  as  well 
stocked  iwith  black  bottles  of  "Kummel"  (a  strong  spirit- 
uous liquor)  as  many  an  hotel  in  Hamburg.  It  being  pitch 
dark  when  the  detectives  came  on  board  the  smugglers 
had  (expecting  this  early  visit)  tied  short  strings  to  the 
bottles  and  hung  them  out  of  the  portholes.  The  end  of 
each  string  was  knotted  and  jammed  securely  by  the  closed 
outer  port  or  round  iron  shutter,  so  that  nothing  was  visi- 
ble inside  and  the  darkness  prevented  anything  being  seen 
outside. 

The  man  with  the  huge  nose  whom  1  have  mentioned 
was  a  ''character."  Once  fairly  at  sea  and  sobered  up 
he  was  one  of  the  best  hands  in  our  service,  but  every  time 
he  could  touch  shore  or  otherwise  get  free  access  to  any 
of  his  favorite  drinks  he  would  promptly  stow  away  as 
much  as  he  could,  with  the  usual  effects.  We  will  call 
him  ''Flatfoot."  He  was  a  fine  well-built  man,  though 
more  sinewy  than  massive,  with  a  full  brown  beard  and 
moustache.  But  it  was  that  nose  of  his  that  most  caught 
the  eye.  In  shape  it  was  more  like  a  new  kidney  potato 
than  anything  else  I  can  think  of,  but  it  was  pitted  all 
over  like  the  rind  of  an  orange,  and  as  for  color,  it  was 
beautifully  variegated  and  versatile.     It  was  a  veritable 

241 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

chameleon — at  one  time  a  study  in  copper  red,  at  another  a 
harmony  in  wine  color  and  dull  pinks,  yet  again  with  sug- 
gestions of  flouresence  or  a  rainbow,  according  to  his  de- 
gree of  sobriety  or  inebriety.  Moreover,  the  more  he  drank 
the  greater  its  ''displacement"  or  size  became;  it  was  a 
common  diversion  on  board  to  ''watch  Flatfoot's  nose 
groiw;"  and  the  whole  ship's  company  used  it  as  a  sort  of 
whetstone  for  their  wits— for  he  was  a  good-humored  fel- 
low, except  when  the  nose  was  unusually  inflated— then 
look  out. 

Yet  like  many  men  of  his  type  he  could  be  a  hero.  One 
day  as  we  were  slowly  going  into  one  of  the  South  Ameri- 
can harbors  the  ship's  boy  fell  overboard,  and  though  it 
was  known  there  were  sharks  about,  Flatfoot  (who  hap- 
pened to  be  on  deck  at  the  time)  was  overboard  in  no  time 
and  seized  and  kept  the  boy  afloat  until  a  boat  a  little  dis- 
tance away  astern  got  up  to  the  spot— iwe  having  forged 
a  little  ahead— and  picked  both  of  them  up.  "Flatty" 
was  a  great  favorite  after  that. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

SAILOR   POLITICIANS,    AND    THE   COOK^S   YARN    ABOUT    A    CON- 
FIDENCE   TRICK. 

Flatfoot  and  our  boatswain  were  both  keen  politicians, 
with  opposite  views,  and  fond  of  arguments  on  any  and 
every  subject.  The  boatswain  was  a  big  Pomeranian  with 
jovial  red  face,  blue  eyes,  hair  and  short  curly  beard  of 
sandy  red,  and  a  hand  that  was  very  convincing  in  debate. 
He  was  a  red-hot  Socialist,  while  our  fireman  with  the  red 
figure-head  was  by  a  strange  contradiction  an  ardent  Royal- 
ist—a native  of  Hesse,  of  whom  there  is  a  saying  that  they 
cannot  see  anything  till  after  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
I  don 't  knoiw  why,  unless  it  is  a  reflection  on  their  supposed 
heavy  drinking  and  consequent  sleepy-headedness. 

The  discussions  between  these  champions  were  usually 
set  going  in  the  evening  by  some  mischieviously  disposed 
third  party.  For  instance:  A  game  of  cards  is  in  pro- 
gress in  the  fo'c'sle,  Bo's'n,  the  cook,  and  two  others  talk- 
ing part,  Flatfoot  seated  on  a  sea-chest,  a  few  more  loung- 
ing about— nearly  all  smoking.  I  have  occasion  to  look 
in  about  some  duty,  and  loiter  a  few  minutes  in  conse- 
quence of  some  remark  arousing  my  curiosity. 

Clubs  are  trumps,  and  in  the  course  of  play  Cook 
thumps  down  the  Knave  of  that  suit  with  the  remark, 
** Here's  Bismarck"  and  taking  the  trick,  leads  off  with  the 
King  saying,  **And  there's  I^ing  Wilhelm."  But  Bo's'n 
bangs  doiwn  the  Ace  triumphantly  shouting,  **And  there's 
Karl  Marx,  the  people's  champion."  This  leads  to  some 
bantering  of  the  Bo's'n  with  the  express  object  of  getting 

243 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

him  and  Flatfoot  under  way.  Bo's'n  is  only  too  glad  of 
an  opening  to  air  his  eloquence  and  principles,  without  in- 
terrupting the  game  much,  however,  and  by  and  by  fires  a 
shot  at  his  usual  antagonist,  who  so  far  has  been  stolidly 
sitting  with  arms  folded  on  his  knees. 

*' That's  one  into  your  hull,  Flatty," 

''You  be  blowed  and  don't  speak  to  your  betters,"  re- 
torts Flatty. 

"Betters,"  roars  the  Bo's'n,  ''the  only  'betters'  in  the 
world  are  those  who  work  hardest,  and  you're  not  one  of 
them  Flatty— why  Cook  here  is  as  good  as  the  Skipper  be- 
cause where  'd  we  be  without  him  1  And  every  man  Jack  of 
us  is  as  good  as  Bismark  or  the  Kaiser. ' ' 

"Why?"  says  Flatty  laconically  and  in  order  to  draw 
the  Bo's'n  on  to  dangerous  ground. 

"Why?  Because  what'd  the- aristocrats  do  with- 
out the  like  of  us  to  bring  'em  coffee  and  tobacco  and  other 
imports  and  to  ship  away  our  exports?  Why,  Germany 
iwould  lose  its  oversea  trade,  and  merchants  would  be 
ruined,  and  then  where 'd  be  your  fine  Royal  Roosters  and 
military  turkey  cocks?  But,  if  they  was  all  as  dead  as 
Julius  Caesar,  as  long  as  we  and  the  farmers  and  the  man- 
ual workers  (was  all  going  the  same  as  now  Germany  would 
be  just  as  prosperous,  and  a  jolly  sight  more  so." 

Thus  Flatty— "And  if  you  and  the  Skipper  and  the 
mates  was  all  as  dead  as  Julius  Caesar,  so  long  as  we  en- 
gineers and  firemen  and  the  cook  was  all  doing  our  watches 
reg'lar  wouldn't  this  old  hooker  get  along  just  well?" 

The  Bo's'n  snorted  at  being  thus  inferentially  excluded 
from  the  ranks  of  Labor,  and  classed  amongst  the  "aristo- 
crats," and  said  the  cases  were  not  on  the  same  parallel 
of  latitude— "Every  fool  knowed  there  must  be  a  skip- 
per to  navigate  the  ship,  and  the  mates  and  bo's'ns  to  direct 
the  hands  and  the  work." 

"Just  so,"  says  Flatty,  "and  doesn't  anyone  hut  a  fool 
know  that  there  must  be  a  skipper,  and  mates,  and  a  bo 's  'n 
like  Bismark  to  navigate  the  State?" 

H"ear!  hear!  Flatty,"  from  the  audience. 

So  the  argument  drifts  lumberingly  along  like  an  old- 

244 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

fashioned  sea-fight  between  clumsy  three-deckers,  until 
the  Bo's'n  alleges  that  under  Socialism  they  would  all  get 
lager  beer  and  Kummel  and  frocks  and  boots  for  the 
missis  and  the  kiddies  '"for  nothing." 

The  point  is  applauded,  and  the  ship's  boy  remarks, 
''That  ought  to  about  suit  you.  Flatty;  your  nose  would 
be  a  blooming  Socialist  all  the  time." 

Flatty  treats  this  rude  personality  with  contempt  and 
puts  this  conundrum,  "And  how'd  you  get  a  missis  and 
kiddies  without'  money?" 

The  question  is  a  poser,  for  in  the  experience  of  these 
open-handed  sons  of  the  sea,  whether  with  the  ''regular 
liners"  of  matrimony  or  with  "chartered  craft"  for  occas- 
ional trips,  the  universal  first  and  last  essential  is  money 
—and  plenty  of  it. 

"That  reminds  me,"  says  the  cook,  "of  a  shipmate  I 
had  when  I  was  in  the  Antwerp  and  Mediterranean  trade. 
He  was  one  of  those  craft  that  always  seem  down  by  the 
bead— like  a  rat  grubbing  for  tucker— though  always  smell- 
ing around  for  anything  he  could  pick  up  in  the  way  of 
money,  or  whatsoever  could  be  turned  into  money.  You 
can  always  tell  those  mud-raking  chaps  by  their  low  cut- 
water. This  one  like  all  the  rest,  would  load  himself  to 
his  scuppers  every  time  he  got  a  chance  to  make  a  bit 
extra,  and  as  he  never  spent  anything  in  port  except  his  own 
wharfage  dues,  he  had  saved  up  a  tidy  sum— I  don't  know 
haw  much— he  was  too  close  about  it,  but  I  know  it  was 
a  goodish  bit,  because  two  or  three  times  when  I  have  been 
cashing  a  check  at  the  bank  I  have  seen  him  pay  in  his  and 
a  lot  of  gold  besides. 

"Well,  he  fell  in  with  a  young  Jewess  in  Antwerp— a 
trim  topsail  schooner  of  a  girl,  clipper  built,  fine  shear, 
good  beam,  clean  run  under  the  counter,  and  lively  on  her 
helm— and  her  old  father  was  a  rich  pawnbroker  and 
money-shark.  This  was  quite  enough  for  my  shipmate, 
Schwenke,  so  he  set  sail  after  her ;  but  being  a  lumbering 
sort  of  a  brig  to  look  at  he  did  not  seem  to  have  much 
chance  of  overhauling  such  a  smart  craft  as  she  iwas.    But 


245 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

she  somehow  found  out  that  he  had  specie  on  board,  so  she 
backed  her  topsail  and  let  him  range  alongside.  Then  she 
lowered  her  to '-gallant  and  took  two  reefs  in  her 
mains '1  and  let  him  keep  her  company  for  a 
pleasure  cruise  around  the  theatres  and  music-halls  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  shows. 

"But  the  old  man  was  in  a  blue  fury  when  he  found  out 
how  things  were  going,  because  he  wanted  his  daughter 
—her  name  was  Leah—  to  marry  a  middle-aged  iwell-to-do 
merchant  in  Brussels,  who  had  made  a  good  bid  for  her. 
But,  unbeknown  to  her  father,  there  was  a  rather  wild 
harum-scarum  young  mate  of  an  English  brigantine  who 
was  also  after  her,  and  she  took  a  fancy  to  him;  only,  he 
spent  all  his  little  earnings.  He  had  no  show  to  marry  her, 
for  she  knew  iwhat  was  what. 

"Now  when  she  let  Schwanke  join  company  with  her  she 
just  wanted  to  get  his  money  transhipped  to  her,  if  she 
could  manage  it,  without  giving  him  ownership  or  charter- 
party  over  herself. 

' '  So  she  kept  him  -well  under  her  lee,  and  at  last  got  him 
so  iwind- jammed  that  he  proposed  they  should  elope  and 
get  married  in  some  foreign  port  where  her  father  was  not 
known.  You  see,  he  was  not  only  willing  but  anxious  to 
go  into  fair  partnership,  because  he  reckoned  that  once 
they  were  actually  married  he  was  safe  to  get  the  old  Jew's 
money  sooner  or  later. 

"But  Leah  made  out  that  she  was  afraid  he  wanted  to 
play  her  false,  and  also  made  a  show  of  going  about,  shak- 
ing the  reefs  out  of  her  canvas,  and  making  for  her  home- 
port  without  him.  This  flustered  him,  and  in  his  hurry 
to  follow  in  her  wake  he  missed  his  stays  and  lay  rolling 
helplessly ;  he  offered  to  give  her  any  proof  or  security  she 
liked  that  he  would  honorably  marry  her. 

"Well,  she  let  her  sails  shake  in  the  wind  a  bit,  and  after 
pointing  out  that  she  was  risking  everything,  herself  and 
her  father's  wealth,  she  stipulated  that  he,  Scbwenke,  must 
take  an  equal  risk  and  place  in  her  hands  by  way  of  se- 
curity for  his  good  faith  the  whole  of  his  money  as  shown 


246 


i 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


by  his  bank-book,  with  passage-tickets  for  herself  and  him 
to  some  foreign  port.  She  agreed  that  the  very  evening 
of  the  day  she  received  the  security  she  would  meet  him 
either  at  a  railway  station  or  at  any  steam-packet  and  ac- 
company him  to  such  destination  as  they  might  agree  upon 
—she  to  bank  the  money  in  her  own  name  until  they  were 
married. 

*  *  It  was,  of  course,  a  fool 's  bargain  on  his  part,  but  a  man 
in  love  is  seldom  anything  else  but  a  lurid  fool. 

''Early  next  day  they  met  by  appointment  outside  his 
bank,  he  handed  over  the  money  in  notes  and  gold  and 
offered  to  go  with  her  to  her  bank,  where  she  already  had 
a  small  amount.  She  objected  that  his  going  with  her  to 
pay  in  money  might  look  compromising  to  her,  so  he 
waited  outside,  where  a  little  later  she  showed  him  the 
receipt. 

*'Then  they  agreed  to  meet  at  the  railway  station  that 
night  a  few  minutes  before  the  last  train  for  Ostend  left; 
she  was  to  wear  a  long  grey  cloak  and  a  heavy  black  veil 
and  make  a  certain  signal  with  an  umbrella,  but  she  was 
not  to  speak  to  him  nor  he  to  her  until  safely  in  the  train, 
because,  she  said,  her  father  seemed  suspicious  and  might 
have  both  of  them  watched. 

"Well,  Schwenke  was  early  on  the  platform  and  restless- 
ly tacked  up  and  down  until  only  two  or  three  minutes  re- 
mained, and  he  began  to  perspire  with  anxiety.  At  last 
the  bell  is  rung,  and  just  as  he  is  all  but  frantic,  the  long 
looked  for  cloak  and  veil  com€  hurriedly  through  the  gate- 
iway,  and  the  signal  is  hastily  given.  They  have  just  time 
to  rush  into  a  carriage,  then  the  door  is  slammed  and  they 
are  off. 

' '  But  here  comes  a  mystery :  Another  train  now  well  on 
its  course  to  Rotterdam  also  has  on  board  a  young  run- 
away couple.  The  sun-tanned  chap  is  the  mate  of  the  Eng- 
lish brigantine,  and  the  lively  young  woman  who  is  laugh- 
ing so  uproariously  with  him  is  most  remarkably  like  that 
handsome  little  craft  Leah.  In  fact,  she  is  Leah,  and  she 
has  with  her  a  bag  containing  gold  to  the  full  amount  of 


347 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

her  bank  &,ccount  after  depositing'  Schwenke's;  for  later  in 
the  day  she  had  (withdrawn  the  whole  amount  in  hard  coin, 
and  is  now  going  to  make  sure  of  being  splieed  properly 
—only  to  another  bridegroom  than  poor  Schwenke. 

**  Meantime,  that  unlucky  derelict  has  made  the  discovery 
,that  his  travelling  companion  is  Leah's  old  maid  aunt, 
who  has  been  imposed  upon  (  very  willingly,  by-the-way) 
by  that  clever  young  privateer  by  means  of  false  messages 
and  one  or  two  slightly  altered  love-notes  from  Schwenke 
to  herself,  with  a  downright  forgery  or  two  thrown  in. 

^'What  sort  of  a  settlement  my  shipmate  had  with  the 
aunt  I  don 't  know  for  certain ;  but  I  heard  that  as  she  had 
a  little  money  of  her  own  and  he  had  lost  his,  they  soon 
sailed  together  under  the  same  flag  and  berthed  at  one 
wharf.'' 


248 


CHAPTER  XLIX 


J 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 


On  our  first  homeward  run  we  received  orders  at  Bahia 
to  call  at  St.  Michael's,  one  of  the  Azores  (a  cluster  of 
small  islands  several  hundreds  of  miles  west  of  Spain)  to 
take  over  the  cargo  of  a  sailing-  vessel  which  was  lying 
there  in  distress — only  being  kept  afloat  by  continuous 
pumping. 

This  opportunity  of  a  passage  to  those  islands  was 
availed  by  a  gentleman  whose  home  was  there.  He  was  a 
young  Spanish  merchant,  and  his  pleasant  manners  made 
him  much  liked  on  board.  He  would  stroll  about  the  ship 
chatting  affably  in  broken  and  amusing  German  (of  which 
1  should  like  to  give  a  sample  or  two,  only,  of  course,  I  can- 
not in  English)  with  many  of  the  crew.  I  suppose  his  oc- 
cupation had  given  him  a  smattering  of  two  or  three  lan- 
guages. One  or  two  of  our  officers  would  sometimes  con- 
verse with  him  in  Spanish,  both  for  courtesy's  sake  and 
their  own  better  practice. 

At  one  of  the  ports  we  had  called  at  in  Brazil  yellow 
fever  had  broken  out,  so  when  we  got  to  the  Azores  the 
authorities  there  would  neither  allow  anybody  on  oiir  ship 
to  land  nor  anyone  from  land  to  come  on  board.  Now  this 
iwas  very  hard  lines  on  our  Spanish  passenger,  who  had  a 
beautiful  young  wife  there,  and  during  the  few  days  we  re- 
mained taking  in  cargo  from  the  distressed  vessel,  that 
lovely  and  devoted  young  lady  used  to  come  in  a  small  boat 
to  within  a  short  distance  of  our  steamer  and  remain  there 


249 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

all  day  long  conversing  with  her  husband.  It  must  have 
been  fearfully  tantalizing  to  him  at  least  to  be  "so  near  and 
yet  so  far"  as  an  old  song  says.  I  think  they  had  the 
lively  sympathy  of  every  sailor  man  on  board— from  the 
rough  old  sea-dog  of  a  captain  do\\Ti  to  the  ship's  boy.  The 
poor  fello/w  was  as  restless  and  irritable  as  a  caged  tiger  or 
a  young  dog  newly  on  the  chain;  he  could  neither  eat  nor 
drink;  he  could  not  tear  himself  away  from  the  taffrail, 
but  hung  over  it  as  if  he  were  in  the  last  extremity  of  sea- 
sickness, volubly  pouring  out  soft  Spanish,  of  which  I 
could  only  distinguish  a  frequently  repeated  Caro,  Amado, 
Querida  and  Buena  Alhdga,  with  almost  as  frequent  names 
of  numerous  Holy  Saints  uttered  with  other  words  in  such 
a  tone  of  voice  as  one  could  imagine  him  using  in  mortal 
combat  with  deadly  enemies,  from  which  fact  my  conclu- 
sion is  that  he  was  rehearsing  extempore  litancies  to  the 
said  saints  by  way  or  respectful  protest  against  their  in- 
attention to  business  and  to  such  special  clients  as  he,  and 
as  the  most  diplomatic  and  safest  means  at  his  command 
of  emphatically  cursing  the  maladministration  of  their  de- 
partments. 

To  say  he  nearly  went  out  of  his  mind  is  extravagant 
poverty  of  expression ;  he  raved  as  insanely  as  Shakespeare 's 
"Romeo,"  and  I  daresay  his  wife  was  about  as  good  a 
match  for  "Juliet"— only  the  respective  position  were  re- 
versed, for  our  Romeo  had  to  do  the  balcony  turn  and  she 
the  outside  performance.  By-thcMway,  the  serenading  ele- 
ment was  not  lacking  either;  for  the  people  of  the  island 
in  order  to  do  honor  to  so  rare  an  event  as  the  visit  of  a 
big  steamer  to  their  little  port,  on  each  of  three  evenings  of 
our  stay  sent  out  a  boat-load  of  brass  band  to  charm  (or 
scare)  away  any  latent  cares  and  misery;  and  in  addition 
on  the  first  evening  they  gave  a  very  imposing  display  of 
fireworks  on  shore.  The  effect  was  very  pleasino^  indeed 
— I  mean  the  fireworks,  for  though  it  is  only  fair  to  say 
that  the  band  performed  very  creditably  after  the  first 
few  selections  it  did  not  quite  suit  my  personal  convenience, 
seeing  that  it  prevented  my  getting  the  sleep  I  needed  be- 


250 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


fore  going  on  duty  at  midnight— for  we  had  to  lay  under 
steam  all  the  time. 

I  suggested  to  the  second  mate  that  we  should  order  the 
fire-hose  to  be  turned  upon  the  band— this  being  our  usual 
plan  of  getting  rid  of  too  troublesome  fruit-hajwkers,  bird- 
dealers,  and  such  like  itinerant  nuisances— just  as  Mad- 
dler  used  to  do  when  there  was  a  riot  in  his  theatre. 

But  the  mate  was  too  charitable  and  long-suffering.  He 
said  that  they  were  unsophisticated,  well-meaning  people, 
innocent  of  willfoil  malice,  and  were  doing  their 
best  for  us,  and  reminded  me  that  iwhen  smitten  on  one 
ear  we  ought  not  to  hit  back  but  should  turn  the  other  ear 
also. 

I  said  I  had  been  smitten  on  both  ears  at  once— ''what 
was  to  be  done  in  such  a  case  ? ' ' 

But  to  return  to  our  poor  Romeo.  He  made  one  or  two 
desperate  efforts  to  escape ;  but  somehow  his  Saints  did  not 
back  him  up  properly,  for  each  attempt  came  to  grief,  and, 
on  pain  of  being  confined  to  his  cabin,  he  had  to  give  his 
word  of  honor  not  to  try  again. 

When  in  three  day's  time  we  had  got  our  cargo  (salt- 
petre) shipped,  iwe  had  to  drag  the  forlorn  husband  away 
with  us  to  Lisbon,  for  the  pitiless  law  would  not  suffer  him 
to  land  till  the  expiration  of  a  certain  time— though  there 
had  not  been  the  faintest  trace  of  any  disease  amongst  us 
the  whole  voyage.  The  trouble  was  that,  so  far  as  we  saw, 
there  was  no  health  officer  at  St.  Michael's. 

As  we  steamed  out,  Romeo  watched  his  wife  till  out  of 
sight;  then  he  went  below  and,  I  daresay,  poured  out  tears 
and  other  things  to  relieve  emotions.  At  Lisbon  he  had  to 
go  into  quarantine  for  a  few  weeks,  and  T  don 't  knoiw  what 
afterwards  happened  to  him. 


251 


CHAPTER  L 


I 


CHAPTER  L. 


rWO  INCIDENTS— A  NARROW  ESCAPE;  AND  ^'HOT  TODDY ''  NOT 
ALWAYS  WELCOME  TO  A  SAILOR. 

As  we  steamed  out  of  Lisbon  for  Hamburg  it  only 
wanted  a  few  days  to  Easter,  and  iwe  were  all  looking  for- 
ward to  reaching  home  in  time  to  spend  the  holidays  on 
shore;  but  we  had  a  very  narrow  escape  from  never  seeing 
Hamburg  or  any  other  port  again. 

One  night  as  we  iwere  passing  through  the  English  Chan- 
nel, and  while  on  my  way  from  the  mess-room  to  go  below 
on  duty  at  twelve  o'clock,  I  found  the  fog  so  thick  that  1 
could  not  see  my  hand  if  held  before  my  eyes.  *  *  This  is  a 
nice  sort  of  night,"  I  thought  to  myself,  ''to  be  in  the 
Channel;"  for  there  is  always  an  enormous  traffic  there — 
even  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  two  nights  before  I  had  counted 
no  less  than  eighteen  steamers  passing  within  an  hour; 
and  there  is  about  the  same  difference  between  the  Bay  and 
the  English  Channel  as  there  is  between  a  country  road 
and  a  city  street  as  to  traffic. 

About  a  quarter  after  one  o'clock  that  night  there  was  a 
sudden  command  from  the  bridge,  "Stop!— full  speed 
astern."  The  order  was  swiftly  obeyed,  we  all  knowing 
there  was  some  serious  danger,  and  easily  guessing  that 
it  was  a  threatening  collision.  For  a  minute  or  two  there 
was  a  terrible  suspense  in  our  minds,  for  at  any  moment 
the  stem  of  some  great  vessel  might  come  crashing  right 
into  our  engine-room  or  boilers  and  we  be  scalded  to  death 
in  steam  and  hot  water,  or  drowned  like  rats  in  a  hole  by  an 
overwhelming  inrush  of  sea  from  without;  there  would  be 

253 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

very  little  chance  of  escape  if  we  were  struck  amidships. 
Yet  we  were  bound  to  stick  to  our  posts. 

To  our  ^eat  relief  presently  the  order  came,  ''Full 
speed  ahead,"  so  we  knew  that  that  particular  danger  was 
past.  When  we  went  off  duty  at  4  o'clock  the  Second 
Mate,  who  had  had  that  watch  on  deck,  said  to  us,  ''My 
word,  we  had  a  narrow  shave  from  being  run  down  by 
the  passenger  steamer  going  from  Dover  to  Calais,  we  just 
got  far  enough  astern  in  time  to  let  her  slide  across  our 
bows— one  minute  later  would  have  doomed  us.  If  she  had 
run  into  our  empty  coal-bunkers  you  fellows  down  below 
would  not  have  seen  daylight  again." 

On  the  following  night  I  happened  to  be  passing  the 
Chief  Engineer's  cabin  about  eleven  o'clock.  He  called 
to  me  and  requested  me  to  go  and  ask  the  Purser  to  come 
to  his  cabin  and  have  a  "hot  toddy"  with  him.  It  was  a 
bitterly  cold  night  in  the  North  Sea.  I  went  first  to  the 
Purser 's  cabin ;  he  was  not  there.  Then  I  tried  our  mess- 
room  and  one  or  two  other  likely  localities,  and  then  the 
saloon;  going  quietly  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  passengers 
in  that  quarter  . 

The  saloon  was  in  darkness  except  where  the  moon  shin- 
ing through  the  skylight  happened  to  fall,  though 
not  very  brightly,  for  there  was  a  cloudy  sky.  A. 
very  interesting  tableau  met  my  sight.  In  a  nice 
cozy  corner  the  gallant  officer  I  was  in  search  of  was  em- 
bracing a  fine  big  strapping  young  lady  passenger  who 
was  by  no  means  warmly  clad  for  such  a  night.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  when  I  discreetly  gave  a  slight  cough,  (as  of 
course  I  did  at  once,  also  stepping  back  instinctively)  she 
hurried  on  tip-toe  to  her  cabin  and  I  could  not  help  seeing 
that  she  was  bare-footed  and  was  apparently  dressed  in 
some  strange  frilly  white  garment  and  a  short  petticoat. 

A  little  later  I  knocked  at  the  Purser's  cabin,  and  find- 
ing him  there  this  time  I  delivered  my  message;  but  in- 
stead of  acknowledging  it  with,  "Right,  my  hearty,  tell 
him  I  '11  be  there  in  a  minute, ' '  he  seemed  very  ingracious, 
and  in  reply  only  gave  a  surly  grunt  in  his  bristly  whis- 


254 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

kers,  which  grunt  may  probably  be  interpreted  as  an  un- 
utterable malediction  on  hot  toddy,  the  Chief  Engineer, 
and  myself,  for  ill-timed  disturbance,  and  dissatisfaction 
with  the  Chief's  company  and  hospitality  as  fair  compensa- 
tion for  the  loss  of  the  company  of  a  nice  girl. 


Such  incidents  are  not  at  all  uncommon  occurences  on 
long  voyages,  as  most  officers  on  ships  know,  even  when, 
as  in  this  instance,  young  ladies. are  supposed  to  be  under 
efficient  protection ;  for  this  young  lady 's  father  and 
mother  were  both  on  board.  The  anecdote  will  serve  one 
good  purpose  if  it  keeps  a  few  guardians  of  valuable  prop- 
erty a  little  wider  awake.     There  is  an  unwritten  code  of 


255 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


honor  amongst  gentlemen  of  the  sea  to  betray  neither  lady 
nor  shipmate ;  so  of  course  I  did  not  breathe  a  word  of  this 
little  affair  to  anybody. 


PART    III 


MY  SECOND  AND   SUCCESSFUL  EMIGRATION. 


CHAPTER  LI 


CHAPTER  LI. 

ON  SHORE  AGAIN— A  FINGER-POST  TO  SUCCESS. 

When  we  arrived  at  Hamburg  my  wife  and  her  aunt 
came  on  board  to  meet  me  and  persuade  me  to  go  home 
again,  and  their  united  pleading  and  assurances 
prevailed  upon  me  to  do  so.  Though  I  could  not 
altogether  forget  my  past  suspicions  I  was  glad  to  be  with 
her  again  as  of  old  and  we  got  along  very  comfortably, 
and  my  time  on  shore  passed  pleasantly. 

After  a  few  more  trips  to  and  from  Brazil  I  got  sick  of 
the  general  monotony  of  the  life,  for  events  of  any  special 
interest  were  few  and  far  between  and  not  always  pleas- 
ant to  experience.  Accordingly,  through  one  of  my  friends 
knowing  of  my  desire  to  take  to  shore  life  again,  I  was 
offered  employment  in  the  same  factory  that  I  had  been 
at  before.    I  took  it  and  gave  up  seafaring. 

But  I  soon  found  I  could  not  take  kindly  to  a  humdrum 
existence  with  very  little  prospect  of  much  betterment.  I 
don't  think  I  was  built  that  way,  and  perhaps  my  former 
wanderings  had  fostered  my  natural  restlessness.  Any- 
how, my  ambitious  projects  returned  in  full  force,  and  I 
was  determined  once  more  to  try  my  luck  somewhere  if 
only  I  could  see  a  fair  chance.  Every  day  I  carefully 
scanned  the  daily  papers  and  at  last  came  across  some- 
thing which  seemed  to  suit,  and  which  did  indeed  ulti- 
mately prove  to  be  the  finger-jwst  on  the  road  which  led 
to  the  success  I  sought.  In  one  of  the  newspapers  I  saw 
an  advertisement  to  the  effect  that  the  Government  of 
Tasmania  was  offering  about  200  free  passage  tickets  for 

267 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

approved  emigrants  to  that  place  who  had  any  relation 
there,  application  to  be  made  to  an  address  in  London 
which  I  have  forgotten. 

I  had  already  heard  a  great  deal  about  the  wonderful 
new  country  of  Australia  far  away  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  world— about  its  great  gold  diggings,  and  the  high 
rate  of  wages,  and  the  many  large  fortunes  made  there; 
and  one  of  my  friends,  a  joiner  by  trade,  had  often  talked 
to  me  about  this  splendid  new  land  and  of  his  desire  to 
get  there  if  he  could  only  see  how  to  do  so.  But  to  both 
of  us  it  seemed  almost  unreachable. 

Directly  I  read  that  advertisement  I  fairly  jumped  up 
and  ran  off  with  the  paper  to  my  friend's  place,  which  was 
not  far  distant.  It  was  Sunday,  by  the  way,  so  he  was 
home,  and  with  some  excitement  I  read  my  good  news  to 
him.  We  both  decided  to  try  to  seize  the  opportunity, 
so  that  very  afternoon  I  wrote  my  application,  stating  that 
I  had  an  uncle  somewhere  in  Tasmania  but  did  not  know 
the  exact  locality.  I  must  candidly  confess  that  in  this 
statement  I  was  more  imaginative  then  scrupulously  ac- 
curate ;  the  alleged  ' '  uncle ' '  was  as  mythical  as  most  of  the 
'* brothers"  and  ''cousins"  which  the  average  John  China- 
man claims  appear  to  be;  but  the  Tasmanian  authorities 
had  stipulated  for  some  sort  of  vested  interest  in  the  shape 
of  a  resident  relative;  they  offered  premiums  for  such  ar- 
ticles and  would  certainly  get  some  no  more  substantial 
than  mine  (imaginary  uncles  with  probably  far  less  worthy 
nephews  than  myself)  so  I  did  my  best  for  both  parties 
concerned.  Even  in  my  choice  of  a  relative  I  was  circum- 
spect and  diplomatic ;  for  if  I  trotted  out  a  brother,  sister, 
or  some  other  very  close  member  of  the  family,  the  Govern- 
ment might  be  suspicious  about  my  lack  of  knowledge  of 
the  address;  if  I  claimed  only  a  "cousin"  it  might  arouse 
a  suspicious  prejudice  from  painful  experience,  and  the  de- 
gree of  relationship  might  be  too  remote  as  compared  with 
other  applicant's  relatives.  An  ''uncle"  seemed  the  happy 
mean.  An  uncle  is  so  often  out  of  direct  touch,  a  rambler 
who  has  sown  enough  wild  oats  to  be  likely  to  have  settled 

258 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

down  to  rest  comfortably,  glad  to  see  and  help  a  nephew 
through  too  much  of  an  "absent  minded  beggar"  to  take 
the  trouble  to  hunt  him  up.  Yes,  I  think  I  showed  diplo- 
macy and  acumen  and  business-like  ''push"  that  should 
condone  a  mere  business-like  accommodation  of  the  supply 
to  the  demand. 

For  a  few  days  after  posting  my  letter  I  was  in  feverish 
expectation.  A  fortnight  passed  without  a  reply,  so  I  gave 
up  all  hope  and  even  further  thought  of  the  matter.  This 
was  about  Christmas,  1884,  and  I  was  in  constant  work  and 
earning  good  wages.  Many  months  slipped  by  and  at  last 
in  June  I  received  one  day  a  letter  from  London  notifying 
that  if  I  had  still  a  desire  to  go  to  Tasmania  I  must  for- 
ward 30s.  to  the  London  address  and  be  ready  to  start  by 
the  5th  of  July.  I  did  not  hesitate,  but  posted  the  required 
money  straight  away,  all  I  possessed  at  the  time.  Then 
at  a  stationer's  shop  I  bought  a  map  of  Tasmania  about  the 
size  of  the  palm  of  my  hand  (the  largest  I  could  get)  to 
find  out  more  about  the  place.  On  examining  it  very  close- 
ly I  saw  they  had  a  railway  and  a  few  towns,  and  I  deduced 
from  these  facts  that  the  inhabitants  would  not  be  all  be- 
nighted savages. 

My  friend  had  backed  out  as  soon  as  it  came  to  send- 
ing 30s.  as  a  deposit  on  the  contract.  I  must  say  I  don't 
think  he  would  have  gone  when  it  came  to  the  point  in  any 
circumstance,  as  he  had  interesting  ties  he  did  not  care 
to  risk  breaking;  so  I  had  to  go  through  the  undertaking 
quite  alone,  there  being  no  one  else  I  knew  of  likely  to  go. 

My  wife's  relatives  were  all  strongly  against  my  pro- 
gramme, and  worried  me  from  pillar  to  post;  but  my  reso- 
lution remained  unshaken. 


259 


CHAPTER  Lll 


CHAPTER  LII.  • 

DEPARTURE— A   PECULIAR  ACCIDENT. 

Two  days  before  the  date  of  departure  we  had  to  undergo 
a  medical  examination  and  sign  an  agreement  to  remain 
in  Tasmania  for  four  years.  I  had  provided  myself  with  a 
small  boxful  of  tools  used  in  my  trade  and  was  then  left 
with  3s.  in  my  pocket  with  which  to  speculate  and  dissipate 
in  a  foreign  country— amongst  a  people  whose  lingo  I  did 
not  know  one  word  of.  But  if  I  was  short  of  ready  money 
I  had  at  least  a  stock  of  good  clothes  and  some  other 
useful  sundries  which  as  occasion  required  I  could  either 
use  for  my  own  convenience  or  trade  off  at  a  fair  profit 
to  the  black,  yellow,  or  white  heathen  I  should  most  likely 
meet.     So  I  packed  my  box  with  all  I  could  get  into  it. 

The  time  came  at  last  to  say  * '  Good-bye ' '  to  my  wife, 
and  I  must  admit  that  the  prospect  of  this  ordeal  was  far 
from  pleasing,  both  in  itself  and  because  I  knew  it  would 
mean  a  flood  of  hysterical  tears.  Now,  I  have  a  special 
horror  of  women  crying ;  I  simply  cannot  stand  it ;  you  have 
to  try  to  console  them  and  then  they  cling  to  you  or  else 
turn  away  irritably,  in  either  case  crying  worse  than  ever 
until  you  just  have  to  give  in  and  do  whatever  they  want, 
or  else  tear  yourself  away  with  the  dismal  consciousness 
that  she  thinks  you  a  hard-hearted  brute.  My  reason  tells 
me  that  we  men  ought  to  be  proof  against  those  dangerous 
showers;  but  unfortunately  most  of  us  are  not— we  ** don't 
know  how  to  come  in  out  of  the  rain. ' ' 

So,  to  avoid  so  far  as  I  could  exposure  to  such  a  danger, 
I  bid  my  wife  a  rather  hurried  and  professedly  "interim" 

261 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

farewell  as  though  only  going  away  for  a  few  hours  and 
told  her  I  would  be  back  before  leaving,  with  the  guilty 
knowledge  in  my  heart  that  I  would  not— for  the  reasons 
stated  above. 

I  had  six  miles  to  go  to  the  wharf  where  the  ship  was 
lying,  and  being  so  short  of  money  a  friend  of  mine 
helped  to  carry  my  box.  When  about  half  way  there 
the  box,  a  wooden  one,  split  in  two  in  consequence  of  its 
being  so  tightly  packed,  and  out  tumbled  everything  into 
the  middle  of  the  road.  We  burst  out  laughing  and  I  said, 
"1  suppose  some  people  would  think  this  a  bad  omen,  and 
would  turn  back."  Instead  of  doing  so  I  left  my,  friend 
to  mount  guard  over  my  property  while  I  went  in  search 
of  a  joiner.  In  about  half  an  hour  I  succeeded,  and  my 
box  was  roughly  repaired  by  means  of  boards  nailed  across 
the  two  separated  halves,  at  a  cost  of  about  Is  6d,  leaving 
me  now  only  about  the  same  amount  as  a  stand-by. 

We  reached  the  vessel  without  further  mishap,  and,  after 
a  parting  glass  of  lager  beer  with  my  friend,  I  went  on 
board,  where  all  was  bustle  and  confusion.  It  was  a  cargo 
steamer,  fitted  up  for  the  occasion  and  the  purser  sorted  out 
the  passengers,  putting  the  married  people  and  families 
forward  and  us  single  men  aft. 

After  I  had  stowed  my  box  in  as  convenient  a  place  as 
possible  I  had  a  good  look  around,  especially  at  my  fellow- 
passengers.  I  soon  found  they  were  of  many  trades  or 
occupations  mostly  bound  for  Tasmania;  but  several  who 
had  paid  their  own  passage  (or  had  it  paid  for  them  by 
friends)  were  going  to  Adelaide,  Melbourne,  and  Sydney, 
and  to  these  I  shall  refer  later. 

Next  morning  my  wife  came  on  board  and  wished  to 
give  me  about  4s.  which  she  had  earned  the  evening  before. 
That  was,  of  course,  very  kind  of  her,  but  I  would  not 
accept  it,  preferring  not  to  leave,  her  quite  penniless, 
though  I  knew  she  would  be  able  to  keep  herself  in  fail 
comfort  for  some  time  to  eome,  as  she  had  besides  the  shop 
another  sure  source  of  regular  income,  though  not  large. 
So  we  bade  each  other  a  fond  ''good-bye"  once  more,  and 
at  my  desire  she  went  home. 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Our  departure  was  delayed  over  three  hours  owing,  as 
we  later  discovered,  to  the  Government  refusing  clearance 
to  our  ship  unless  the  agreement  between  us  and  the  Tas- 
manian  Government  binding  us  for  four  years  was  can- 
celled, our  authorities  desiring  us  only  to  leave  as  free  men. 
This  resulted  in  much  telegraphing  to  and  from  the  Tas- 
manian  agent  in  London,  and  at  last  each  of  us  was  handed 
a  .document  stating  that  our  passage  was  a  free  gift  from 
the  Government  of  Tasmania,  and  that  each  could  leave 
whenever  he  wished  to  do  so. 

This  being  settled,  we  got  under  way  down  the  river 
through  the  long  familiar  forest  of  masts  and  miles  of 
buildings  densely  packed.  My  heart  bounded  with  joy  that 
I  had  another  chance  to  try  my  luck  in  the  outer  world, 
and  I  was  determined  not  to  return  home  again  until  I 
succeeded. 


268 


CHAPTER  LIll 


■!  ', 


i 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

VOYAGE  NOTES. 


a'^mongst  our  passengers  one  lot  of  twenty-five  men  were 
going  under  contract  to  Gippsland  in  Victoria.  They  came 
from  East  Prussia,  and  a  rough  lot  they  were.  They  had 
a  table  themselves  and  we  others  kept  as  much  aloof  from 
them  as  we  could.  We  were  only  a  few  days  out  at  sea 
when  they  had  a  fierce  battle  at  dinner  about  the  division 
of  the  food.  Dumplings  were  shied  at  each  other's  heads 
and  hot  pea-soup  flung  in  each  other's  faces,  then  every- 
thing else  handy  was  used  as  a  weapon  of  some  sort,  and 
terrific  was  the  din  and  the  strife  until  one  of  the  mates 
sailed  in  vigorously  and  restored  order. 

At  our  table  were  nineteen  men,  and  I  think  I  may  safely 
assert  that  ours  was  about  the  best  conducted  of  the  lot. 
We  elected  a  chairman  to  carve  and  to  allot  the  food  and 
each  of  us  agreed  to  be  satisfied  with  his  dividend.  We 
also  arranged  a  plan  whereby  two  of  us  at  a  time  should 
undertake  the  duty  for  a  week  of  cleaning  up  the  plates 
and  dishes  and  other  appliances. 

From  the  moment  the  moorings  were  cast  off  at  Hamburg 
until  we  disembarked  at  the  end  of  our  voyage,  we  were 
seldom  if  ever  without  the  strains  of  music  from  some  one 
or  more  of  a  multitude  of  miscellaneous  instruments,  to 
say  nothing  of  vocal  performances — from  the  shrill  soprano 
which  was  sometimes  mistaken  for  the  ship's  steam  siren, 
t(j  the  rough  bass  that  more  than  once  startled  the  Chief 
Engineer  from  is  innocent  dreams  with  the  fear  that  some- 


265 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

thing  had  gone  wrong  with  his  machinery— so  at  least  h( 
said. 

Coming  down  the  Elbe  an  asthmatic  accordeon  led  oi 
with  a  selection  of  heart-racking  pieces  such  as  ''Die  Waehl 
Am  Rheim,"  "Lebe  Wohl  Du  Schones  Haus"  (Live  well 
your  beautiful  house)  and  was  soon  joined  by  accomplices 
on  the  banjo,  Jew 's  harp,  tin  whistles,  and  voices  gradually 
drifting  in  until  there  was  quite  a  large  chorus  in  full 
swing.  For  several  days  after  this  there  were  frequent 
eruptions  of  new  musical  talent,  several  other  accordeons 
and  banjos,  also  zithers,  violins,  one  or  two  flutes  and  fifes, 
a  trombone,  and  one  or  two  shy  things  that  kept  out  o; 
sight  and  could  not  be  identified  by  sound.  It  was  a  toss 
up,  for  instance,  whether  they  were  clarionets,  concertinas, 
or  only  combs  covered  with  tissue  paper. 

Our  first  place  of  call  was  Antwerp,  and  here  one  of  oui 
Tasmanian  batch  mysteriously  vanished.  The  current  con- 
clusion was  that  he  only  wanted  a  cheap  trip  to  Antwerp. 
Besides  cargo,  w^e  here  shipped  a  lady  passenger  with  her 
four  children.  We  afterwards  found  that  her  husband 
had  sent  for  her  to  join  him  at  one  of  the  most  famous 
gold-mining  towns  in  Australia,  and  as  he  had  traveled  in 
the  same  ship  he  had  written  to  the  captain  asking  him  if 
he  would  take  care  of  his  wife.  That  gallant  gentleman 
was  so  obliging  as  to  proffer  this  lady  the  use  of  his  own 
cabin,  though  she  was  only  a  steerage  passenger  like  all  on 
board.    The  sequel  will  appear  in  due  course. 

From  Antwerp  we  crossed  over  to  London.  Here  we 
nearly  had  the  bottom  knocked  out  of  the  ship  through 
piece  of  very  large  and  heavy  machinery  slipping  out  of 
the  sling  as  it  was  being  hoisted  aboard. 

My  pockets  being  practically  empty,  I  was  not  able  to 
see  much  of  this  greatest  of  all  cities,  but  I  roamed  about 
on  foot  as  much  as  time  permitted.  Though  used  to  city 
life  (and  Hamburg  with  its  environs  is  no  small  place)  1 
must  admit  that  I  was  fairly  bewildered  by  the  overpower- 
ing vastness  of  this  city  and  by  the  dense  mass  of  people 
and  traffic  in  its  streets.     You  can  hardly  move  a  step  in 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

many  of  the  ^reat  thoroughfares,  and  they  seem  every- 
where, without  treading  on  other  people's  toes  and  ladies' 
skirts,  and  as  for  crossing  the  road,  that,  to  strangers  at 
least,  is  impossible  without  the  help  of  one  of  the  numerous 
policemen  posted  here  and  there,  and  who  now  and  then 
stop  the  road  traffic  to  let  a  waiting  batch  of  pedestrians 
across.  We  have  something  of  this  in  our  larger  Austral- 
ian cities,  but  nothing  like  it  is  in  London;  for  there  the 
whole  street  is  for  hours  together  an  incessant  closely 
packed  stream,  or  rather  streams,  of  vehicles,  checked  from 
time  to  time  by  the  hand  signal  of  the  policeman. 

One  day  a  shipmate  and  I  were  strolling  along,  he  smok- 
ing a  cigar — you  could  get  really  good  ones  in  Hamburg 
at  twenty-five  for  Is.  At  last  he  threw  the  stump  away, 
but  it  hardly  touched  the  ground  before  it  was  snatched 
up  by  a  poor  looking  man  who  put  it  in  his  pipe  and  fin- 
ished it  with  evident  enjoyment. 

Once  more  I  crossed  the  stormy  Bay  of  Biscay  where 
often  the  wild  Atlantic  seems  o  concentrate  its  mad  fury 
and  so  many  noble  vessels  besides  shoals  of  small  craft 
have  foundered.  But  instead  of  continuing  our  course  to 
the  south 'ard  as  on  my  previous  voyages,  our  vessel  skirted 
the  coast  of  Portugal  and  Spain,  steamed  slowly  past  your 
British  great  fortress,  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar— which  looked 
imposingly  grand  and  picturesque  towering  high  in  the 
glowing  southern  sunlight  against  a  soft  blue  background 
of  sky— until  we  found  ourselves  on  the  beautiful  and 
wonderful  Mediterranean,  that  most  famous  and  historic 
of  all  seas,  about  which  I  had  heard  so  much  in  my  school 
days  and  casually  read  about  later — the  center  and  scene 
of  perhaps  the  most  entrancing  events  of  history  and  ro- 
mance,—the  sea  traversed  by  Aeneas  and  Ulysses,  and 
where  the  classic  poets  make  the  God  of  the  Sea  appear 
as  in  your  Dryden  's  translation  of  Virgil : 

''Mean  time  imperial  Neptune  heard  the  sound 
Of  raging  billows  breaking  on  the  ground. 
Displeased,  and  fearing  for  his  wat'ry  reign, 
He  rear'd  his  awful  head  above  the  main, 

267 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Serene  in  majesty        *****  * 

*        *        *        he  skims  the  liquid  plains, 
High  on  his  chariot,  and,  with  loosen  'd  reins, 
Majestic  moves  along,  and  awful  peace  maintains." 

As  most  readers  will  have  noticed,  we  are  taking  the 
Suez  Canal  route,  but  as  this  and  the  places  of  interest 
have  been  so  often  described  and  are  generally  known  I  do 
not  intend  to  dwell  upon  all  I  saw,  though  of  great  interest 
to  me.  I  shall  merely  give  a  few  incidents  and  personal 
observations. 

As  we  passed  Alexandria  we  had  a  distant  view  of  this 
very  ancient  city,  and,  so  far  as  we  could  distinguish,  all 
the  buildings  appeared  to  be  white.  To  us  German  emi- 
grants it  v/as  a  very  impressive  sight.  But  it  was  when  we 
reached  Port  Said  and  the  Suez  Canal  that  we  first  realized 
that  we  were  in  a  strange  new  world.  We  lay  off  the 
former  some  time,  but  as  I  had  so  little  money  I  was  un- 
able to  go  on  shore,  as  most  of  my  fellow-passengers  did. 
and  I  felt  it  very  hard  lines.  However,  I  consoled  myself 
with  the  hope  of  better  times.  There  was  a  nice  hotel  close 
to  the  pier  where  every  evening  a  splendid  brass  band 
played  selections. 

I  heard  that  Port  Said  is  considered  the  most  depraved 
place  in  the  world ;  but  probably  it  is  over-rated  in  this  re- 
spect, though  if  current  tales  be  true  it  is  bad  enough  for 
all  practical  purposes.  And  after  all,  even  if  the  worst 
I  heard  be  true— that  husbands  act  as  Panders  for  their 
wives— if  you  look  at  the  case  judicially  it  resolves  itself 
simply  into  an  extreme  instance  of  that  spirit  of  ''com- 
mercialism" which  is  the  little  tin  god  of  the  age. 

From  there  we  steamed  slowly  through  that  big  salt 
water  gutter  called  the  Canal— about  100  miles  of  it  with 
recesses  or  "sidings"  (as  they  would  be  called  on  a  rail- 
way) ever}^  here  and  there  to  shunt  into  when  another  ship 
has  the  right  to  first  use  of  the  course.  In  one  of  these 
we  had  to  shelter  while  no  less  than  sixteen  large  steamers 
of  different  nationalities  passed  by  towards  the  north. 
Some  of  these  were  men-of-war,  and  it  was  a  magnificent 

268 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

spectacle,  such  as  I  had  never  before  seen.  As  each  slow- 
ly and  grandly  glided  by  we  saluted  with  a  hearty  cheer, 
and  the  compliment  was  by  each  as  heartily  returned. 

A  number  of  Arabs,  including  some  women,  ran  for  miles 
along  the  embankment  beside  us  picking  up  the  hard  ship 's 
biscuits  which  we  threw  them,  and  when  now  and  then  they 
seemed  about  to  ease  off,  a  coin  or  two  from  somebody  on 
board  thrown  instead  of  a  biscuit  would  make  them  put  on 
a  fresh  spurt  and  have  an  exciting  scramble  for  it.  What 
with  their  gaunt  brown  limbs  and  light  garments  they 
looked  like  a  lot  of  mummies,  on  a  spree. 

Further  on  we  caught  sight  of  a  camel  caravan  heading 
towards  the  desert. 

Not  only  the  days  but  the  nights  also  were  so  terribly  hot 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  to  sleep  below.  Consequently, 
as  night  came  on  there  was  something  like  a  general  scram- 
ble by  mattress-laden  passengers,  old  and  young  and  of 
both  sexes,  for  choice  of  allotments  on  deck  whereon  to  lie 
down  for  the  night.  Blankets  were  altogether  unnecessary, 
and  in  many  cases  even  personal  clothing  was  no  more 
than  the  irreducible  minimum  required  by  decency— not  al- 
ways even  that,  for  the  unconscious  restless  of  sleep  caused 
one  or  two  rather  startling  instances  of  undesirable  can- 
dour. 


269 


CHAPTER  LIV 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

A   TERRIFIC   STORM. 

As  soon  as  we  got  out  of  the  Red  Sea  the  hatches  were  all 
securely  fastened  down.  Everybody  who  has  been  at  sea 
much  knows  what  that  means— ''Storm  ahead;"  and  very 
soon  we  got  it,  a  fine  full-grown  one,  like  those  we  read  of 
in  "Sindbad  the  Sailor"  (in  the  same  ocean,  by  the  way) 
and  in  ** Robinson  Crusoe,"  for  it  lasted  a  long  dreary 
three  weeks,  and  had  ours  been  a  sailing  ship  instead  of  a 
steamer  there  is  no  saying  where  we  might  or  might  not 
have  been  blown  to— over  the  edge  somewhere,  perhaps. 

During  all  this  time  we  never  saw  a  sail.  The  ship 
tossed  and  plunged  and  rolled  terrifically — as  if  she  were 
a  buck  jumping  horse  trying  to  pitch  us  off  her  back— and 
the  deck  was  almost  continuously  swept  from  end  to  end 
by  the  seas  breaking  on  board.  This  was  partly  owing  to 
there  being  only  an  iron  railing  instead  of  bulwarks  around 
the  deck,  which  nearly  all  the  time  was  in  a  frightful 
state.  Several  of  the  crew  and  passengers  were  seriously 
hurt  by  being  thrown  down  or  against  things;  one  of  two 
carpenters  one  day  bringing  a  tin  bucket  of  pea  soup 
and  accidently  butting  against  an  iron  stanchion  very  near- 
ly split  his  skull  open. 

The  poor  cook  had  a  bad  time.  His  pots  and  pans  were 
continually  tumbling  and  even  jumping  off  the  fire,  so  that 
he  had  the  greatest  difficulty  to  cook  anything,  and  when 
it  was  cooked  it  often  got  upset  or  spoiled  with  sea,  water 
on  its  way  to  its  intended  consumers.  What  with  these  and 
other  troubles  we  all  began  to  wear  pretty  thin,  and  seemed 
in  a  fair  way  to  be  reduced  to  mere  skin  and  bone. 

271 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

But  not  being  a  new-chum  at  sea  I  found  a  good  deal  of 
enjoyment  during  this  rough  aud  tumble  weather.  Nearly 
every  day  I  took  my  stand  on  a  high  barrel  of  salt  meat 
which  was  firmly  lashed  to  the  side  railing,  and  there  re- 
mained for  hours  holding  on  to  the  rigging.  It  was  a  fas- 
cinating sight  watching  the  vast  mountain-like  waves  rush- 
ing towards  us  and  their  tops  washing  right  over  us  from 
stem  to  stern;  besides,  the  fresh  pure  air  though  blowing 
a  hard  gale  was  so  invigorating— far  pleasanter  than  the 
stuffy  close-smelling  cabin. 

You  can  form  some  idea  of  the  severity  of  this  storm 
from  the  fact  that  we  could  only  make  about  2%  knots 
per  hour  instead  of  from  10  to  12  as  we  should  have  done 
under  ordinary  conditions.  We  were  all  supplied  with 
charts,  and  I  for  one  daily  marked  on  mine  our  position  at 
the  time. 

During  this  stormy  passage  across  the  Indian  Ocean  the 
lady  passenger  from  Antwerp  died,  and  was  buried  at  sea. 
There  was  an  unpleasant  rumor  on  board  that  her  death 
resulted  from  certain  interference  with  nature. 


272 


CHAPTER  LV 


CHAPTER  LV. 

SOME  SHIPMATES. 

I  must  introduce  to  you  one  or  two  of  my  shipmates. 
We  are  not  all  plebeians— oh,  dear  no.  We  had  on  board 
at  least  one  overpowering  aristocrat  whose  massive  weig*ht 
of  conscious  dignity  was  so  great  that  as  he  majestically 
tramped  the  deck  you  could  feel  (with  very  little  imagina- 
tion) a  vibration  of  the  ship  from  stem  to  stern.  His  square 
Bismarck-like  figure  was  usually  set  off  by  a  well  cut  suit 
of  brown  with  a  gray  soft  felt  hat  and  a  field-glass  was 
always  ostentatiously  slung  across  his  shoulders,  unless  in 
actual  use  (which  was  pretty  often).  Frequently  you 
would  find  it  superciliously  focussed  upon  you  or  other 
shipmates  as  though  he  were  some  high  and  mighty 
official  grandee  holding  an  informal  inspection  pa- 
;*ade.  These  airs  were  his  by  right  of  having 
paid  his  own  passage  money,  which  fact  he  managed  to 
keep  well  in  the  foreground,  and  his  having  a  brother  in 
Adelaide  who  was  supposed  to  be  rojling  in  wealth.  We 
will  for  convenience  call  this  high  personage,  "Herr 
Schnieder. ' ' 

Naturally  a  good  deal  of  attention,  not  always  flattering, 
gravitated  towards  him.  We  shall  temporarily  part  from 
him  at  Adelaide  and  meet  him  again  somewhat  later. 

Then  there  was  a  spruce  little  chap— a  rather  thin,  ner- 
vous, fastidious  and  altogether  little  bird-like  sort  of  a  fel- 
low—the kind  that  always  seems  as  if  he  had  never  before 
been  away  from  his  mother 's  apron  strings. 

He  always  wore  a  long-tailed  Beaufort  coat,  and  as  the 

273 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

tail  pockets  were  always  stuffed  full  with  something  or 
other,  and  he  walked  with  a  stoop  in  the  back  and  a  pecu- 
liar prancing  gait — his  coat-tail  bobbing  behind  with  a  reg- 
ular swinging  motion— he  looked  very  comical;  and  it  was 
not  long  before  he  was  nick-named  '  *  Kangaroo, ' '  on  account 


KANGAROO." 


of  a  fancied  resemblance  to  that  animal.  He  was  a  photog- 
rapher. To  see  him  wildly  staggering  along  the  deck  with 
his  arms,  legs,  and  tails  spasmodically  flying  awkardly  in 
all  directions,  was  a  highly  popular  diversion— good  enough 
for  the  comic  stage.     But  he  was  good-hearted  and  popU' 


274 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


young  man,  though  grotesque    and    simple    minded. 

Of  course,  he  was  the  butt  of  many  jokes.  When  dur- 
ing?: that  rough  three  weeks  on  the  Indian  Ocean  he  like 
the  rest  of  us  was  expressing  impatience  to  get  to  our  desti- 
nation, someone  in  the  crew,  one  of  the  mates  I  think,  with 
the  express  purpose  of  having  a  game  with  poor  ''Kan- 
garoo," set  the  yarn  going  that  on  arrival  in  Tasmania  we 
were  all  to  be  put  in  ' '  leg-irons ' '  to  keep  us  from  running 
away  and  we  should  be  set  to  such  work  as  making  roads 
and  cleavini^  the  country  of  scrub  and  timber.  The  little 
photographer,  though  perhaps  a  little  suspicious  at  first, 
sh(^wed  so  much  concern  and  alarm  that  several  joined  in 
the  j('ke  at  his  expense  making  the  question  a  subject  of 
seemingly  serious  conversation  when  he  was  in  hearing, 
and  amongst  other  little  divices,  pictures  and  accounts  of 
convict  gangs  at  work  were  brought  forward,  until  at  last 
the  victim  was  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement  and  driven 
very  nearly  clear  out  of  his  mind. 

For  a  time  he  argued  that  our  papers  of  freedom  given 
when  we  left  Hamburg  should  protect  us.  "Pooh,"  was 
the  reply,  "do  you  think  they  will  care  for  those  papers 
so  far  away  from  Germany?  Would  they  bring  you  out 
at  all  unless  to  get  hard  work  out  of  you?  Now  that  they 
have  no  written  contract  to  hold  you  under  they  will  be 
sure  to  take  come  means  of  preventing  you  from  escap- 
ing" Such  and  many  other  arguments  quite  broke  him 
up,  so  that  I  became  seriously  afraid  that  he  would  commit 
suicide  by  jumping  overboard,  and  therefore  kept  almost 
constanly  by  his  side,  especially  towards  and  after  dark. 


276 


CHAPTER  L v.— CONTINUED. 
A  clergyman's  adventure  with  some  sausages. 

There  was  also  a  German  clergyman  on  board,  a  mission- 
ary, I  believe,  going  out  to  one  of  the  South  Sea  Islands— 
a  rather  plump,  pleasant-faced  jovial  man.  a  little  under 
the  medium  size.  His  placid  smile  and  smooth  shiny  fore- 
head and  upper-pate  reflected  a  good  deal  of  heavenly 
light— one  of  the  mates  declared  that  one  moonlight  night 
he  had  for  a  moment  or  two  mistaken  the  pastor 's  head  for 
a  steamer  mast-head  light— too  plump  for  his  own  future 
-  safety  he  was  going  amongst  cannibals. 

There  was  a  tale  circulated  somehow  about  this  minister, 
how  and  where  it  originated  I  don't  know.  It  may  have 
got  a  bit  tangled  in  handling  but  I  give  it  as  it  reached  me. 

In  one  of  his  former  parishes  he  was  one  day  visiting  at 
a  farm— one  of  those  providentially  timed  visits  that  coin- 
cide with  sheep  or  pig-killing  by  the  farmer,  sausage  mak- 
ing and  the  like  incidents  profitable  to  the  church  and  the- 
Levite.  The  expert  clerical  nose  detects  a  well-known  fra- 
grance and  the  diplomatic  clerical  mouth  remarks  pleas- 
antly, "I  say,  farmer ,  you  have  a  very  nice  smell' 

here." 

**Yes,"  says  the  farmer,  ''I've  been  killing  a  pig. 
Would  you  like  a  couple  of  sausages  ? ' '  Now,  be  it  noted, 
a  genuine  German  sausage  is  not  a  paltry  affair. 

Though  a  Levite  (by  office)  the  minister  is  not  a  Jew, 
and  has  no  sectarian  objections ;  and  being  a  man  of  much 
taste— and  appetite— he  affably  condescends  to  accept  this 
welcome  aid  to  his  ''work."   A  little  later  he  departs  after 

276 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

carefully  depositing  one  of  these  savory  items  in  each  tail 
pocket.  He  is  on  his  way  to  church,  for  it  is  Sunday.  A 
strange  dog,  a  disreputable  mongrel,  chums  up  to  him  snif- 
fing at  his  rearmost  pockets.  The  minister  says,  ''Go 
away,"  with  a  flourish  of  his  umbrella  to  emphasize  the 
advice.  The  dog  goes  away— two  or  three  steps,  but  as  soon 
as  the  minister's  back  is  turned  it  cautiously  follows  up 
and  sniffs  at  the  pockets  again. 

''Go  away,  you  brute,"  says  the  minister  with  a  vicious 


kick,  which  the  dog  nimbly  evades,  but  gives  a  yelp  and  a 
bark  which  brings  one  or  two  other  dogs  on  the  scene. 
The  minister  resorts  to  road  metal,  but  his  right  hand  has 
lost  any  cunning  it  once  possessed,  so  that  the  only  result 
is  a  temporary  scattering  of  the  enemy.  But  meantime 
the  odor  of  pork  is  bringing  reinforcements  to  their  aid, 
and  the  alarmed  minister  begins  to  retreat  in  some  dis- 
order, fresh  dogs  tailing  on  every  now  and  then,  till  he 


277 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

begins  to  feel  that  he  must  look  like  a  huntsman  on  his  way 
to  some  ''meet." 

The  widow  Seheffer  and  her  daughter,  on  their  way  to 
church,  nearly  run  against  him  at  a  corner,  and  they  look 
astonished  and  a  little  shocked;  but  he  can  only  politely 
raise  his  hat  and  pass  on,  shaking  off  the  nearest  dogs  as 
best  he  can.  He  has  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  several  other 
members  of  his  church,  but  his  canine  friends  will  not  for- 
sake him. 

The  church  warden,  to  whom  the  minister  gives  his  old 
hats  when  he  sports  a  new  one  himself,  feels  a  contingent 
interest  in  that  hat  and  takes  it  up  to  examine  its  condition 
— thinks  it  should  very  soon  revert  to  himself.  As  he  turns 
it  about  he  notices  a  slip  of  manuscript  tucked  in  the  band 
of  leather  lining  inside.  It  is  the  minister's  "Notes  of  Ser- 
mon," so  the  church  warden  hurries  off  to  the  minister 
with  it.  The  latter  is  engaged  in  prayer,  therefore  the 
church  warden  crawls  on  hands  and  knees  up  the  pulpit 
stairs,  the  old-fashioned  closed-in  style  of  rail  screening 
him  from  the  congregation. 

The  minister  hears  the  slight  stealthy  noise  behind  him, 
and  his  recent  adventure  with  the  dog's  being  naturally 
vividly  in  is  mind,  he  as  naturally  thinks  they  are  on  his 
tracks  again  even  to  the  pulpit.  He  feels  something  touch 
the  tail  of  his  coat  and  with  the  smothered  and,  under  the 

supposed  circumstances,  pardonable  ejaculation,  "D n 

those  dogs, ' '  he  lets  out  a  kick  which  catches  the  well-mean- 
ing church  warden  full  in  the  face,  causing  him  to  yell  with 
pain  and  anger  and  sending  him  flying  down  the  stairs. 
In  a  moment  the  whole  congregation  is  in  an  uproar,  and 
the  service  has  to  be  brought  to  a  hasty  termination.  Ex- 
planations have  to  be  made,  but  finally  peace  is  established 
on  the  just  basis  of  the  minister  bestowing  one  of  the  mis- 
chief-making sausages  upon  the  unlucky  church  warden. 


278 


CHAPTER  LVI 


CHAPTER  LVI. 


One  morning  land  was  reported  in  sight.  It  was  Kan- 
garoo Island,  south  of  South  Australia.  We  emigrants 
gave  it  a  hearty  cheer,  although  as  we  got  near  enough  to 
make  it  out  it  did  not  look  much  like  a  land  of  promise— a 
land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  In  fact,  it  looked  very 
barren  and  dreary  indeed,  but  we  were  glad  enough  to  see 
land  of  any  sort. 

Passing  it,  we  soon  arrived  at  Port  Adelaide,  which  look- 
ed business-like  and  much  larger  than  we  expected  in  this 
new  and  supposedly  savage  land.  But,  of  course,  it  was 
very  different  from  Hamburg  and  other  ports  we  had  seen 

■  Europe. 
lA.  lot  of  our  countrymen  came  on  board  either  to  meet 
friends  expected,  or  on  the  off  chance  of  seeing  or  hearing 
from  someone  they  knew. 

Now,  a  few  days  before  leaving  the  old  country,  a  woman 
who  had  heard  of  my  going  to  Australia  called  at  my  place 
to  ask  me  if  I  would  take  a  few  things  with  me  for  her  son 
in  Adelaide.  That  was  the  only  address  she  could  give. 
She  handed  me  a  box  of  cigars,  a  letter,  a  bottle  of  Ham- 
burg Schnapps  and  a  big  padlock.  What  on  earth  she  sent 
him  the  last  for  I  could  not  make  out;  it  seemed  an  in- 
solvable  riddle,  unless  she  had  heard  of  bushrangers  and 
other  desperadoes  in  Australia  and  thought  it  might  «ome 
in  handy  to  lock  up  the  gold— which  he  had  not  got. 

The  schnapps  had  come  to  grief  on  the  voyage.  That 
is,  it  had  come  to  grief  in  going  to  relieve  grief  in  the  form 

279 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

of  sea  sickness.  During  the  tempestuous  weather  we  had 
experienced  several  people,  especially  among  the  women- 
folk, had  got  fearfully  sick  again,  and  spirits  had  become 
very  scarce.  So  in  an  emergency  the  bottle  I  had  charge  of 
was  broached  and  once  it  was  opened  I  had  no  peace  from 
urgent  requests  for  *'just  a  little  drop"  till  it  was  com- 
pletely gone. 

But  the  man  the  things  were  intended  for  was  amongst 
those  who  came  on  board,  and  after  satisfying  myself  as  to 
his  identity  I  handed  over  the  rest  and  explained  about  the 
schnapps.  He  told  me  I  had  done  quite  right  under  the 
circumstances,  and  was  very  pleased  it  had  been  of  such  use. 

In  conversation,  he  strongly  urged  me  not  to  go  on  to 
Tasmania,  as  he  had  heard  a  great  deal  against  the  place 
and  the  treatment  we  would  be  likely  to  receive.  He  offer- 
ed to  come  in  the  evening  in  a  boat  and  smuggle  me  away 
and  pressed  me  to  let  him  do  so,  arguing  that  the  pros- 
pects in  Tasmania  were  very  poor  and  I  would  have  no 
chance  of  getting  away  once  there. 

I  answered,  **My  dear  man,  I  have  travelled  before  un- 
der adverse  circumstances,  and  I  will  see  this  thing 
through."  He  replied;  ''Well,  I  have  cautioned  you  and 
will  get  you  on  shore  here  if  you  like."  But  I  persisted 
in  my  refusal,  and  have  been  glad  I  did. 

A  few  days  later  we  had  arrived  and  anchored  in  Hob- 
son's  Bay  near  Melbourne,  and  three  or  four  water-police- 
men came  on  board,  much  to  the  renewed  alarm  of  the  lit- 
tle photographer,  who  said,  "There,  we  have  the  police  al- 
ready watching  us,"  and  he  evidently  began  to  consider 
desperate  plans. 

I  made  inquiries  and  soon  partly  reassured  him  with  the 
information  that  our  passage  money  had  not  yet  been  paid 
and  only  so  many  would  be  paid  for  as  were  transhipped 
to  the  steamer  that  was  to  take  us  on  from  Melbourne,  so 
the  police  were  on  board  by  request  to  prevent  any  of  us 
from  disembarking  here  without  leave. 

We  had  to  wait  a  weary  three  days.  We  had  been 
eleven  weeks  on  board  and  were  anxious  to  reach  our  des- 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


tination.     The  East  Prussians  for  Gippsland  had,  of  course, 
been  landed. 

On  the  third  day  we  eagerly  watched  the  red  funnel  of 
the  New  Zealand  steamer  "Wairarapa"  as  she  came  slowly 
winding'  down  the  Yarra  and  at  last  she  was  alongside  and 
in  short  time  we  and  our  luggage  transferred  to  her.  Then 
the  water-police  went  ashore.  That  wa^  the  only  time  in 
my  life  I  was  ever  under  police  surveillance. 

On  the  "Wairarapa"  we  found  our  lot  vastly  improved. 
There  was  no  ''steerage"  accommodation  and  we  were  all 
placed  in  the  second  saloon  with  every  comfort  and  con- 
venience,— clean  white  tablecloths  and  serviettes  at  meal 
times,  and  stewards  to  wait  upon  us. 

The  first  time  we  sat  down  to  a  meal  it  was  amusing  to 
see  the  faces  of  some  of  my  fellow-emigrants— those  who 
had  come  from  the  back  country  of  Germany  or  other  out 
of  the  way  places.  They  gazed  with  awe-struck  wonder 
upon  the  electro-plated  cruet-stand  and  the  other  table 
ware;  mistook  the  vinegar  for  wine,  with  comical  results 
j  in  facial  expression  and  doubtless  much  contempt  for  Brit- 
ish taste  in  liquor,  and  put  spoons,  forks  and  knives  to  very 
strange  uses. 

My  little  friend  the  photographer,  however,  began  to  feel 
at  home  and  brightened  up  considerably,  confiding  to  me 
a  hope  that  perhaps  we  might  get  along  alright  after  all, 
for  surely  the  Government  of  Tasmania  would  not  give 
prisoners  such  first-rate  treatment.  We  kept  a  good  deal 
together,  and  soon  we  tried  to  have  a  chat^with  the  chief 
engineer.  Of  course  our  share  in  the  conversation  must 
have  been  pretty  laughable,  for  all  we  knew  of  English 
was  the  little  we  had  managed  to  scrape  out  of  books  on 
our  voyage,  and  no  doubt  we  blundered  badly.  But  this 
chief  engineer  was  a  true  gentleman  at  heart  and  treated 
us  with  friendly  courtesy,  and  when  I  had  told  him  that  I 
had  been  in  his  line  he  was  very  cordial  and  invited  us 
down  to  look  at  the  machinery  and  electric  plant,  and  we 
liad  a  pleasant  time  with  him  both  then  and  afterwards. 
AVhen  some  years  ago  I  read  of  the  wreck  of  this  fine  vessel, 

281 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

the  "Wairarapa"  on  the  New  Zealand  coast  and  the  loss 
of  nearly  all  on  board  I  felt  "great  personal  sorrow. 

The  third  morning  after  leaving  Melbourne,  we  steam- 
ed into  the  beautiful  harbor  of  Hobart.  It  was  an  agree- 
able surprise  to  see  such  a  handsome,  though  small  city— 
altogether  different  from  that  miserable  Jionville  in  Bra- 
zil I  had  gone  to  a  few  years  before.  That  was  a  mud-hole 
in  a  wilderness;  this,  Hobart,  stretched  up  a  gently  rising 
hill  at  the  foot  of  a  fair  sized  mountain  (Mt.  Wellington) 
which  was  to  a  great  extent  covered  with  snow  and  was  very 
striking  in  appearance,  while  in  all  directions  there  were 
indications  of  civilization,  comfort  and  prosperity.  We  had 
all  got  up  very  early  in  eager  curiosity;  but,  so  far  as  we 
could  see,  the  place  and  its  inhabitants  were  still  in  deep 
slumber,  and  it  was  about  nine  o'clock  before  a  number  of 
German  citizens  came  on  board  in  the  hope  of  perhaps  Und- 
iiig  somebody  from  their  respective  districts  of  the  Father- 
land. I  daresay  some  succeeded;  but  no  uncle  looked  for 
me.  At  about  ten  o'clock  an  immigration  officer  came  on 
board  to  take  charge  of  us.  First  we  were  mustered  in 
rows  on  deck,  and  as  he  walked  along  our  lines  to  inspect 
us  I  saw  him  reflectively  scratch  his  head— he  was  evidently 
surprised  and  rather  perplexed. 

No  doubt  he  had  expected  to  find  his  consignment  all 
sturdy  country  yokels,  but  instead  he  found  a  considerable 
number  of  all  sizes  and  ages  and  in  various  kinds  of  city 
garb,  some  with  gold  spectacles  and  eye-glasses,  and  plenty 
who  had  plainly  never  been  used  to  hard  work  of  any  kind. 

The  fact  is,  it  is  not  such  an  easy  matter  to  get  people 
to  come  to  Australia  as  people  out  here  may  think.  In 
the  first  place,  there  is  so  little  known  about  Australia  in 
the  European  countries ;  and  next,  it  is  such  a  long  distance 
in  case  of  failure  or  dissatisfaction;  the  chance  of  return- 
ing home  looks  so  remote. 

When  the  official  had  taken  stock  of  us  he  sent  several 
lorries  to  convey  our  luggage  up  to  the  immigration  depot, 
a  fine  brick  building  situated  in  Newtown. 

There  were  separate  quarters  for  us  single  men,  the  sin- 
gle women,  and  for  families.     Everything  was  very  clean 

282 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

and  comfortable  and  apparently  new  beds  and  bedding, 
and  while  there  we  had  a  real  jolly  good  time.  We  had 
absolutely  nothing  to  do  and  nothing  to  look  after. 

There  were  two  cooks,  and  every  day  the  government  offi- 
cer paid  us  a  visit  to  see  that  we  had  plenty  to  eat  and  were 
alright  generally.  Then  we  had  an  interpreter  with  us, 
and  employers  called  to  engage  hands. 

Every  evening  we  had  music  and  dancing  and  after- 
wards, as  well  as  at  odd  times,  there  was  not  a  little  love- 
making,  especially  between  those  who  had  made  each  other 's 
acquaintance  on  board  ship.  Some  of  the  young  fellows 
even  tried  to  get  admission  into  the  young  women's  quar- 
ters, but  some  of  the  latter  complained  (possibly  from 
jealousy)  and  there  was  a  "row"  about  the  matter,  and  an 
order  that  everyone  had  to  be  in  his  or  her  apartment  by 
10  p.  m. 

On  one  occasion  though  slightly  romantic  but  reasonably 
innocent  circumstances,  I  was  myself  loeked  out  one  night 
biit  through  the  kind  assistance  of  a  little  girl  residing  with 
her  mother  on  the  premises  I  managed  to  get  in  unseen. 

This  little  girl,  by  the  way,  had  shown  a  friendly  interest 
towards  me,  sometimes  taking  me  about  the  city,  and  as  we 
chatted  a  good  deal  it  helped  me  to  improve  my  English 
a  little. 


r 


283 


CHAPTER  LVII 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

LOOKING    FOR    A    START. 

We  were  so  well  looked  after  and  so  comfortable  at  the 
depot  that  many  of  the  emigrants  would  have  been  content 
to  remain  there  for  ever,  I  think.  But  for  my  part  I  was 
only  too  anxious  to  obtain  work  and  send  money  to  my  dear 
wife  at  home.  I  several  times  requested  the  interpreter 
to  accompany  and  help  me  in  searching  for  employment, 
and  this  he  did  willingly  enough,  but  in  the  following 
rather  easy-going  fashion: 

We  would  start  out  after  breakfast,  and  after  strolling 
some  distance  at  random  he  would  say,  "Oh,  here  is  a  Grer- 
man,  we'll  call  in  and  see  him."  We  would  yarn  there 
a  long  time  and  then  he  would  say  it  was  nearly  dinner 
time  and  we  had  better  go  back  again.  In  the  afternoon 
he  had  to  remain  at  the  depot  to  assist  if  employers  called. 

After  a  few  days  of  this  sort  of  thing  I  said,  ' '  Look  here, 
my  friend,  this  does  not  suit  me,  seeing  Germans  only;  I 
want  to  get  a  job. ' ' 

"Well,  what  are  you  in  such  a  hurry  for?  You  have 
plenty  to  eat  and  a  comfortable  home.  What  more  do  you 
want?"  was  his  reply. 

To  this  I  answered,  ' '  I  did  not  come  here  for  that ;  I  had 
that  in  the  old  country,  I  came  out  with  the  special  pur 
pose  of  making  money. ' ' 

' '  You  can 't  make  money  here, ' '  said  he. 
' '  That  remains  to  be  seen, ' '  I  rejoined. 

He  was  a  very  nice  fellow,  but  I  could  see  his  little  game. 

285 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

He  was  quite  satisfied  with  his  cosy  billet  and  not  in  a  hurry- 
to  leave  himself  nothing  to  do,  and  a  believer  in  the  motto, 
''Never  do  today  what  you  can  put  off  till  tomorrow." 

I  must  say  that  the  government  treated  us  exceedingly 
well  and  maintained  everybody  until  suitable  employment 
was  found,  the  last  few  families  being  placed  in  private 
boarding  houses  until  their  way  opened.  It  must  have  cost 
the  colony  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  but  it  doubtless 
paid  them  in  the  end,  as  the  great  majority,  say  at  least 
three-fourths,  got  on  well  and  are  prosperous  today. 

At  my  request  the  interpreter  went  with  me  to  call  upon 
others  than  Germans.  First  we  tried  the  Singer  Sewing 
Machine  depot,  to  see  if  they  wanted  a  good  mechanic.  The 
manager  said,  **No,  they  sent  all  their  repairs  to  Mel- 
bourne." ^'A  nice  state  of  affairs,"  I  thought.  Then  we 
went  to  an  importer  of  sewing  machines,  mangles,  etc.  Af- 
ter some  inquiries  on  both  sides,  including  one  as  to  what 
wages  I  required  (I  did  not  know  what  to  ask)  he  offered 
me  £2  per  week.  I  jumped  at  it  and  was  astonished  to 
find  my  working  liours  Avould  be  only  from  9  to  12,  and  1 
to  5  0  'clock,  three  hours  less  than  I  had  had  at  home. 

My  employer  advertised  in  the  daily  papers  that  he  had 
a  first-class  mechanic  from  Hamburg  and  work  came  rolling 
in  in  heaps. 

In  the  evening  I  studied  English  as  hard  as  I  could  with 
a  termination  to  make  myself  as  perfect  in  it  as  possible. 
My  method  was  to  get  a  book  likely  to  be  interesting  in  it- 
self and  read  it  with  the  help  of  a  dictionary,  underlining 
with  a  pencil  all  words  I  did  not  already  know  or  which 
were  at  all  difficult  in  any  way.  Of  course  my  dictionary 
was  a  German-English  one,  and  as  at  first  I  had  to  be  con- 
stantly referring  to  it  my  task  was  for  some  time  a  trouble- 
some and  tedious  one  and  I  liad  to  underline  nearly  every 
word  in  that  part  of  the  book  I  was  studying.  On  the  fol- 
lowing evening  I  went  over  the  same  ground  again,  and  also 
a  little  further,  if  possible.  The  plan  soon  began  to  prove 
very  effective,  and  gradually  but  with  increasing  rapidity 
my  task  became  easier  and  pleasanter. 

286 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

At  all  events,  by  the  end  of  the  first  fortnight,  I  had 
got  on  so  well  that  I  was  able  to  tell  my  employer  that  1 
thought  I  was  worth  more  money.  He  looked  rather  as- 
tonished—whether at  my  English  or  my  "cheek"  I  don't 
known— but  gave  another  IQs.  per  week  and  promised  to 
raise  my  wages  to  £3  when  I  could  speak  English,  more 
easily.  * 

Meantime  I  received  from  my  wife  and  her  relations 
letters  which  were  full  of  reproach  and  abuse,  but  I  bore 
it  all  quietly  as  I  was  already  saving  over  one  pound  per 
week  to  send  home  to  her,  and  I  managed  to  post  the  first 
£5  I  had  saved  in  time  for  her  to  receive  it  exactly  on 
Christmas  Day. 

100  marks  (£5)  is  considered  a  good  bit  of  money  there. 
It  has  about  three  times  as  much  purchasing  value  as  the 
same  amount  in  Australia,  so  my  wife  and  her  relatives 
must  have  thought  it  rained  money  out  here.  Anyhow, 
the  next  letter  I  received  was  to  a  very  different  tune  from 
the  first.  My  wife  said  it  seemed  as  though  it  came  from 
Heaven,  and  that  she  would  come  over  to  me  as  soon  as  I 
could  manage  to  send  her  a  passage  ticket. 

Of  course,  I  was  very  pleased  that  I  had  been  able  to  send 
that  remittance,  and  with  my  wife's  letter  in  reply,  and 
looked  eagerly  forward  to  the  time  when  I  should  be  able 
to  send  for  her. 

I  may  mention  here  that  my  little  photographer  friend 
also  got  good  employment  at  £2  10s.  per  week,  and  after  a 
few  years  went  to  Melbourne  and  did  well,  and  not  long 
after  returned  to  Germany  to  be  with  his  mother  again  in 
her  declining  years. 


287 


CHAPTER  LVII 


I 


£ 

r 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 


Not  long  after  my  arrival  in  Tasmania  I  was  one  day  try- 
ing to  make  out  a  bit  here  and  a  bit  there  of  one  of  the 
Hobart  newspapers.  After  a  time  ''Situations  Vacant" 
caught  my  eye  and  as  it  happened  these  two  words  I  al- 
ready knew  and  their  meaning.  I  groped  my  way  painful- 
ly down  the  column  until  I  came  to  about  a  dozen  adver- 
tisements each  headed  ' '  General. ' ' 

The  word  looked  a  little  familiar,  as  we  have  a  great 
number  of  generals  in  our  army,  and  being  at  the  head  of 
several  lines  I  thought  that  whatever  it  meant  there  was  a 
good  demand  for  that  kind  of  employe.  I  took  down  my 
dictionary,  of  course,  and  on  referring  to  it  found  that  the 
word  "general"  had  the  following  meaning,  (1)  "a  kind 
or  species"  (this  did  not  seem  to  be  what  was  wanted) ;  (2) 
"not  special  or  particular"  (this  did  not  seem  to  meet  the 
case  either),  (3)  "the  whole"  (surely  no  one  wanted  every- 
body else),  (4)  "a  chief  military  commander."  This  last 
looked  the  most  simple  solution,  but  who  would  want  a  mili- 
tary commander?— and  about  a  dozen  of  them  wanted,  too. 
So  I  studied  further. 

The  first  advertisement  read  ' '  General,  good  for  country, 
apply,"  etc.,  etc.  'Phis  was  pretty  easy  as  far  as  ipere 
translation  went;  but  still,  what  on  earth  did  they  want 
"a  military  commander"  for?  There  was  no  invasion  to 
fear,  no  army— stay?  I  had  seen  a  few  volunteer  or  mi- 
litia soldiers  once  or  twice.  Yes,  I  knew  there  was  a  local 
company— no  doubt  all  the  officers  wore  the  highest  sound- 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ing  titles  they  could  fit  on  their  heads.  Yes,  this  was  the 
secret.  What  they  really  wanted  was  someone  who  knew 
a  little  about  drill  and  so  on  just  to  take  charge  of  a  small 
company  of  amateur  soldiers. 


AUTHOR  AT  33  YEARS,  ON  ARRIVAL  IN  AUSTRALIA. 

Well,  I  had  been  trained  in  the  German  army,  perhaps 
I  would  have  some  chance.     But  let  me  look  at  the  next : 

"General,  smart,  young  or  middle-aged,  two  in  family; 
apply,  etc.,  etc." 


290 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

My  good  friend,  the  dictionary,  helped  me  along  kindly 
to  make  this  out.  ''Smart,"  well  I  (mght  to  be  that,  you 
had  to  be  in  the  German  army;  "young  or  middle-aged," 
yes  I  was  young  anyhow,  or  might  do  very  well  as  betwixt 
and  between;  then  as  to  ''two  in  family,"  why  the  very 
thing,  there  was  myself  and  my  wife— when  I  got  her  out. 
But  what  did  they  want  "two  in  family"  for.  This  was 
rather  a  brain  racker;  but  slowly  the  theory  developed  that 
in  this  simple  moral  community  they  did  not  want  a  gay 
free  and  easy  single  man  to  wear  the  fine  feathers  of  chief 
soldier  before  their  daughters,  wives,  and  sweethearts ;  and 
on  the  other  hand  they  drew  the  line  of  propriety  for  so- 
cial reasons  against  an  officer  with  a  whole  harem  of  wives, 
or  even  a  paltry  two— I  had  noticed  that  the  Hobart  peo- 
ple adhered  pretty  strictly  to  monogamy— at  least  in  pub- 
lic. Yes,  the  whole  thing  seemed  now  fairly  plain,  and  I 
might  as  well  have  what  I  have  since  found  you  call  "a 
shot"  for  the  billet.  So  I  noted  the  address  and  having 
spruced  myself  up  as  martial-like  as  I  could,  including  car- 
rying a  light  walking  stick  with  a  flourish,  I  sallied  forth. 

The  house  was  a  rather  large  one  storied  brick  one  stand- 
ing in  a  fair  sized  garden.  I  rang  the  bell,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  the  door  was  opened  by  a  fine  girl  of  about  four- 
teen or  so. 

I  politely  raised  my  hat  with  the  military  touch  I  had 
so  often  seen  practiced  in  Hamburg  and  said,  (I  give  my 
words  as  literally  as  possible)  :  "Goot  tay.  Miss;  can  I  see 
your  Fader  r' 

The  girl  eyed  me  critically  and  replied,  "Father  is  not 
at  home;  would  mother  do?" 

This  was  rather  disconcerting,  for  it  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  the  lady  of  the  house  would  have  anything  to 
do  with  the  appointment  of  a  military  officer.  Yet  I  was 
unwilling  to  turn  back  and  lose  time,  so  I  fenced  a  little, 
"Vat  time  vould  de  shentleman  pe  home?"  Probably  the 
girl  began  to  suspect  I  might  be  some  well-dressed  tramp, 
for  she  scurried  off  down  the  passage  with  a  hasty,  ' '  Wait 
a  minute,  please, ' '  and  almost  immediately  reappeared  with 

291 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

a  well-formed  dignified  looking  lady  who  was  wiping  flour 
off  her  half -bared  arms.  As  she  advanced  she  looked  at  me 
searchingly  and  a  little  haughtily,  but  I  noticed  that  she 
seemed  a  little  reassured  after  the  first  rapid  scrutiny. 

Again  my  hat  was  doffed  and  kept  in  my  hand  in  our 
continental  fashion,  while  I  had  also  bowed  formally  in 
approved  style. 

As  the  lady  got  near  I  said,  ' '  Goot  tay,  Matam,  I  wished 
to  see  de  shentleman  at  dis  house,  but  de  leedle  Miss  tolt 
me  he  is  not  ad  home"  (to  be  honest,  I  don't  think  I  spoke 
even  quite  so  well  as  this;  but  it  is  near  enough). 

*'No,  Mr. is  not  at  home  just  now;  he  does  not 

return  from  the  city  until  a  little  after  six.  Can  I  give 
him  any  message?"  I  managed  to  catch  the  sense  of  this, 
although  two  or  three  of  the  words  beat  me. 

"T'ank  you,  Matam,  I  t'ink  I  vill  call  again,  but  vould 

you  tell  Mr. dat  a  military  officer,  Herr  Jager,  callt 

to  see  him  about  de  Cheneral  he  put  about  in  de  baber  dis 
day?" 

The  lady  looked  puzzled,  then  I  saw  the  daughter  quickly 
cover  her  mouth  with  her  hand  to  smother  a  laugh,  but  her 
eyes  laughed  all  the  same,  and  she  hastily  whispered  to  her 
mother,  whose  face  also  broke  into  a  smile. 

"A  General,  Herr  Jager,  I  fear  there  is  some  mistake. 

Mr. did  not  advertise  that  I  know  of— certainly  not 

for  a  'General.'  But  I  did  so,  but  not  for  a  soldier  gen- 
eral. What  I  want  is  a  girl  to  help  in  the  house,  and  we 
call  them  'Generals,'  which  is  short  for  general  servant." 
Of  course  I  apologized  and  felt  very  hot  and  uncomfortable. 
The  lady,  however,  could  see  I  was  a  foreigner  and  did  not 
understand  much  English,  and  being  a  true  lady  she  was 
very  courteous  and  friendly,  and  later  on  I  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  being  on  visiting  terms  with  her  and  her  husband. 

But  I  am  sure  they  must  have  had  a  hearty  laugh  at  my 
expense  that  evening. 

It  may  be  noticed  that  there  were  three  instead  of  two  in 
this  family ;  but  probably  the  daughter  was  generally  away 
at  a  boarding  school. 

•  292 


CHAPTER  LIX 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

MILKING  A  COW— AND  A  GERMAN  SALESMAN. 

Following  on  the  last  subject,  I  may  mention  that  I 
heard  a  yam  about  one  of  my  shipmates  which  may  or  may 
not  be  true— probably  there  is  some  truth  in  it;  the  reader 
must  judge  for  himself  as  to  the  percentage. 

Like  many  Germans,  he  had  spent  a  few  years  in  Lon- 
don, where,  as  a  clerk,  or  shopman,  he  had  scraped  together 
a  fair  working  knowledge  of  English,  and  had  later  put  in 
some  time  as  a  corresponding  clerk  in  Hamburg;  but  of 
country  life  he  knew  no  more  than  most  of  us  know  of 
China.  He  had,  however,  a  patriotic  conviction  that  a  Ger- 
man could  hold  his  own  anywhere  and  in  any  circumstances 
—especially  in  a  new  country. 

Soon  after  his  arrival,  having  learned  that  there  was  a 
demand  for  farm  and  dairy  hands,  he  had  applied  in  an- 
swer to  an  advertisement  for  a  situation  of  that  na- 
ture, but  on  being  asked  whether  he  could  milk,  had  with 
native  straight-forwardness  admitted  that  though  he  un- 
derstood the  theory  he  had  had  no  actual  practice. 

''Oh!"  ejaculated  the  farmer,  "you  won't  do  for  me; 
theory  is  no  good— I  want  a  man  who  is  used  to  milking." 

"You  bally  fool,"  said  a  bystander  directly  the  farmer 
had  gone,  *^why  didn't  you  tell  him  you  have  been  used  to 
milking  fifty  cows  every  morning?" 

''Fifty  cows  efery  morning?"  said  Fritz  aghast. 

"Yes,  that's  common  enough  in  Australia." 

"But,  suppose  I  couldn't  do  dem,  ven  I  get  me  de  bil- 
let?" 


293 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

"Out  here,  if  you  want  to  get  a  billet  you  must  bluft' 
that  you  can  do  the  work  and  trust  to  luck  to  get  along; 
once  you  get  it  the  boss  won't  sack  you  in  a  hurry  if  you 
do  fairly  well. ' ' 

Fritz  thought  the  point  over,  and,  feeling  confidence  in 
his  own  powers  of  adaptability,  resolved  to  act  on  the  ad- 
vice given. 

A  day  or  two  later  another  farm  hand  was  advertised 
for.  Fritz,  who  was  a  plump,  ruddy-looking  fellow,  got 
himself  up  as  much  like  a  country  yokel  as  he  could  and 
went  to  the  address  given. 

''Are  you  used  to  farm  workT'  asked  the  employer. 

"Yes,  mine  fader  hat  a  farm-lant  in  Mecklenburg,  und 
I  vorked  vit  him,"  said  Fritz. 

' '  Good, ' '  said  the  employer,  ' '  what  crops  did  you  grow  1 ' ' 

* '  Oh,  ve  growt  parley,  unt  rye,  unt  wheat,  unt  podadoes, 
iint  erydings,"  said  Fritz,  whose  geography  lessons  at 
school  came  in  very  handy  here. 

"Good,"  said  the  employer,  who  knew  that  German 
farmers  are  expert  tillers  of  the  soil,  and  went  on,  "I  sup- 
pose you  can  milk?" 

"Milk!  my  vort,  I  milk  at  my  fader's  blace  thirty  cows 
efery  tay  in  de  morning  early  pefore  preakfast."  Fritz 
thought  he  had  better  leave  a  margin  for  safety. 

"Well,  I'll  take  you  on  at  15s.  a  week  and  tucker,  and 
give  you  a  rise  if  you  suit,"  said  the  employer. 

Fritz  being  afraid  to  haggle  over  terms,  the  bargain  was 
struck  and  he  agreed  to  start  that  afternoon— at  the  even- 
ing milking  time. 

The  boss  showed  him  around  the  place,  pointed  out  the 
cowshed  and  bail,  and  told  him  to  start  at  about  five 
o'clock,  he  himself  was  going  into  the  township,  but  would 
be  home  soon  after  five,  and  would  give  him  a  hand— they 
only  had  twenty-two  cows  milking  just  then. 

The  boss  got  'home  about  seven  o  'clock,  and  found  tea 
waiting  on  the  table. 

"Did  the  new  hand  turn  up?"  he  asked  his  wife. 

"Yes,  he  came  about  half -past  four,  and  I  gave  him  the 
milk  pail,"  said  she. 

294 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


I 

■^^ Hasn't  he  done  yet?"  asked  the  boss. 
^*'I  don't  know;  I  have  been  too  busy  to  see,"  said  the 
wife. 

*  *  I  '11  go  down  and  have  a  look, ' '  said  he.  As  he  neared 
the  cow-yard  he  saw  his  usual  congregation  of  ''milkers" 
waiting  and  impatiently  lowing  at  the  slip-rail,  and  his  ex- 
perienced eye  quicklv  noted  that  their  udders  were  still 
full. 

He  was  fairly  full  himself— of  whiskey  imbibed  in  the 
township.  His  first  idea,  born  of  knowledge  of  the  ways 
of  "hands,"  was  that  this  one  had  brought  along  a  bottle 
of  whiskey  himself,  and  now  dead  drunk;  hence  the  neg- 
lected cows. 

"Hullo!  you  bally  German  swine,  where  are  you?"  he 

Hiared  out. 
^ext  moment  he  was  nearly  struck  dumb  with  astonish- 
ent,  for  Fritz  limped  out     of  the    shed    with  his  face, 
clothes,   and  bare  arms,  thickly  splashed  with  blood  and 
dirt. 

"What  the  d 1?"  began  the  boss? 

*'Dis  cow  kick  me  efery  dime  I  go  do  milk  her,"  plain- 
tively cried  Fritz. 

' '  That  cow  kick  ? ' '  why  a  child  could  milk  her, ' '  said  the 
boss,  "Here,  give  me  that  bucket  and  stool,  I'll  do  her 
myself. ' ' 

He  gave  the  cow  a  friendly  pat  on  the  neck  and  back, 
I  pushed  her  a  little  on  one  side,  sat  down  on  the  stool,  and 
putting  his  head  against  the  animal's  side  and  the  bucket 
between  his  knees,  he  had  the  machinery  in  working  or- 
der in  no  time. 

"There  you  are,  she's  as  quiet  as  a  lamb,  not  a  kick  in 
her,"  said  he. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Fritz,  "Is  dat  de  vay  you  milk  cows 
out  here?  Vy,  I've  been  two  hours  trying  to  tro'  her  on 
her  back,  like  ve  used  to  do  to  milk  at  mine  fader's." 

"You  bally,  blooming fraud,  I  don't  be- 
lieve you  ever  saw  a  cow  in  your  life ;  get  out  of  here  quick 
and  lively,"  shouted  the  infuriated  boss  as  he  made  a  vic- 

295 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

ious  rush  for  his  new  hand,  who  started  off  in  the  great- 
est hurry  for  the  township  and  only  slackened  off  when  he 
realizing  that  the  volcanic  English  idioms  behind  were  get- 
ting inaudible  with  distance. 

Another  German  emigrant — not  one  of  my  shipmates, 
however— got  into  trouble  through  his  scanty  knowledge  of 
English.     It  was,  by  the  way,  in  Sydney. 

He  was  a  draper  by  trade  and  found  employment  in 
a  fairly  large  suburban  shop. 

One  day  a  lady  customer  was  looking  at  some  silks,  and 
on  inquiring  the  price  of  one  piece,  the  new  chum  assist- 
ant told  her  it  was  3s.  lid.  per  yard. 

''Why,"  she  said,  "I  bought  some  of  this  here  a  few 
weeks  ago  for  3s.  6d  per  yard, ' '  and  she  went  out  thinking 
they  were  trying  to  take  advantage  of  her. 

The  shopwalker  noticed  her  leave,  and  coming  up  to  the 
salesman,  he  asked  whether  the  lady  had  bought  anything. 

*  *  No,  sir ! "  replied  the  latter,  and  explained  that  she  was 
indignant  about  the  price  being  higher. 

''What  sort  of  a  salesman  do  you  call  yourself?"  said  the 
shopwalker,  "You  ought  to  have  found  some  excuse  for  the 
price  being  raised;  if  you  couldn't  think  of  anything  else, 
you  might  have  said  that  there  has  been  a  disease  amongst 
the  silkworms  in  France,  and  that  the  best  quality  of  silk 
being  scarce  its  price  has  gone  up." 

Not  long  afterwards  the  shopwalker  saw  an  enraged  fe- 
male battering  this  assistant  furiously  with  her  umbrella, 
and  went  up  to  make  inquiries  as  to  the  cause.  I  daresay 
he  thought  the  man  must  be  some  gay  and  reckless  Lothair 
whom  his  aggrieved  wife  or  lady-love  had  run  to  earth  and 
was  taking  summary  vengeance  upon. 

"Madam,  pardon  me,  may  I  enquire V 

Of  course,  the  lady  did  not  wait  for  him  to  finish,  she 
broke  in  breathlessly: 

"This  vulgar  man  has  grossly  insulted  me.  I  asked  for 
some  tape,  and  when  I  found  the  price  was  l^/^d.  a  dozen, 
I  asked  him  why  it  was  i^d-  dearer  than  last  Saturday, 
and  the  insulting  creature  had  the  impudent  vulgarity  to 


296 


i 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


tell  me  it  was  because  a disease had  lately  broken 

out amongst amongst   (she  blushed  furiously  and 

glared  upon  the  culprit  still  more  furiously) the  vul- 
gar wretch  said  a  disease  had  broken  out amongst 


297 


CHAPTER  LX 


CHAPTER  LX. 

IN  BUSINESS  FOR  MYSEiLiP. 

My  employer  had  a  traveler,  and  between  him  and 
myself  something  of  a  friendship  sprang  up.  Before  long 
he  was  always  advising  me  to  start  a  business  of  my  own 
and  assured  me  I  should  make  double  the  money  I  was 
then  making.  I  decided  to  do  so  unless  my  wages  were 
Raised. 

|p  So  when  I  had  been  about  four  months  with  my  em- 
ployer, I  asked  him  for  the  £3  per  week  he  had  promised. 
fe  answered,  ''But  you  cannot  speak  English  yet." 
*'What  has  the  English  language  got  to  do  with  my 
work?"  said  I.  Had  I  been  a  slow  or  clumsy  workman 
a  few  English  "cuss"  words  might  perhaps  have  been  of 
some  little  service  sometimes— but  more  to  impress  the  boss 
than  for  any  other  particular  utility;  for  I  have  never  yet 
noticed  that  either  tools  or  material  pay  much  attention  to 
any  sort  of  language.  However,  my  employer  could  not 
reply  to  my  question,  but  all  the  same  would  not  raise  my 
wages,  so  I  at  once  gave  him  a  week's  notice. 

With  the  help  of  my  friend,  the  traveler,  I  secured  a  shop 
the  same  evening  at  8s.  per  week,  a  fearfully  ramshackle 
old  shanty  it  was,  apparently  one  of  the  first  houses  built 
in  Hobart.  It  was  fronted  and  had  two  small  compartments 
at  the  back,  but  no  doorway  into  these  from  the  shop.  There 
was  no  lining  on  the  walls — nothing  but  the  bare  shell. 

I  bought  myself  a  stretcher  bedstead,  a  few  kitchen  uten- 

299 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

sils  and  tools  for  my  trade,  and  a  bench  to  work  at  (near 
one  of  the  windows).  When  I  had  done  this  I  was  stone 
broke  once  more,  and  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  wait,  like 
Micawber,  for  "something  to  turn  up." 

Before  long  I  had  plenty  of  work  and  made  between 
five  and  six  pounds  per  week.  I  was  not  such  a  fool  as  to 
work  for  nothing,  and  having  no  competition  I  charged 
pretty  high,  but  took  care  to  do  my  work  well,  so  I  soon 
had  repairs  sent  from  all  parts  of  the  country. 

One  of  my  customers,  an  ironmonger,  had  sent  me  a 
hand  machine  to  repair  and  I  charged  him  5s.  6d.  His 
lordship  sent  for  me  to  see  him  and  on  my  calling  told  me 
I  had  charged  far  too  much.  A  German  who  had  previous- 
ly worked  for  him  had  only  charged  Is.  6d.  for  the  same 
kind  of  work,  but  as  he  was  now  an  old  man  and  in  the 
Benevolent  asylum  he  could  not  now  employ  him.  I  had 
heard  of  this  man  before;  he  had  been  thirty  years  in 
Hobart  and  his  wife  and  children  were  destitute. 

So  I  replied,  ''And  that  is  the  reason  why  he  is  now  in 
the  Asylum,  and  his  wife  and  children  starving,"  and  that 
I  had  no  ambition  to  be  or  become  like  that  man;  that  I 
had  not  come  out  to  Tasmania  for  a  bare  living— I  had 
come  solely  to  make  money  and  meant  to  get  reasonable 
value  for  my  work." 

Well,  my  customer  did  not  take  my  straight  talk  amiss, 
and  as  he  was  not  satisfied  with  a  small  profit,  he  after- 
wards sent  people  wanting  repairs  done  direct  to  me. 


300 


CHAPTER  LXI 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

[.SEND    FOR    MY    WIFE—  GO   TO    MEET    HER,    AND    GET    ONE    OR 
TO   SURPRISES. 

'I  had  been  by  this  time  about  eighteen  months  away  from 
home  and  was  very  anxious  to  get  my  wife  out,  for  al- 
though she  had  caused  me  a  lot  of  heart-ache  I  still  loved 
her  fondly  and  her  only. 

I  had  been  several  times  to  the  Immigration  Officer  to 
try  to  arrange  for  her  to  be  brought  out  under  concessions 
then  in  operation,  but  without  satisfactory  result.  My  im- 
pression was  and  still  is  that  he  simply  wanted  ''palm 
oil. ' '  However,  I  was  advised  to  see  the  State  Treasurer, 
and  this  I  soon  did.  He  at  once  complied  with  my  re- 
quest, I  only  having  to  pay  £3.  This  I  joyfully  did  instan- 
ter,  and  lost  no  time  in  completing  arrangements. 

We  were  still  a  young  couple,  and  on  my  part  at  least 
"Absence  made  the  heart  grow  fonder."  How  long  the 
time  seemed  to  me,  waiting  to  hear  from  my  wife  when  to 
expect  her.  From  time  to  time  I  had  received  from  her 
very  loving  letters  expressing  her  eagerness  to  come  to  me. 

At  last  the  long  looked  for  letter  came.  It  informed  me 
that  she  would  come  by  the  P.  and  0.  liner  ''Australia,*' 
due  at  a  certain  date.  The  time  dragged  along  horribly, 
and  each  day's  work  seemed  exasperatingly  tedious,  im- 
patient as  I  was  for  the  day  to  pass.  I  spent  much  of 
my  spare  time  making  the  place  as  comfortable  as  possible. 

When  only  a  day  or  two  remained,  I  closed  my  shop  and 
took  a  steamer  to  Melbourne.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  my 
heart  leaped    with    joyful    anticipation    when    we    passed 

301 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

through  Port  Philip  Heads,  and  when  in  the  distance  I 
caught  sight  of  Williamstown  where  the  Australia  lay  at 
the  pier,  when  we  passed  her  at  only  a  short  distance  and 
I  thought  of  my  dear  wife  so  near  to  me  at  last.  If  I 
could  have  foreseen  the  future  I  would  rather  have  left 
her  at  home. 

Well,  we  steamed  up  the  Yarra.  But  before  doing  so  a 
small  steamer  brought  a  river  pilot  on  board,  and  she  also 
had  some  newspaper  boys  on  her  deck.  I  had  a  practical 
lesson  as  to  the  smartness  of  those  small  colonials.  They 
were  not  allowed  on  our  vessel;  but  I,  like  most  of  our 
passengers  and  crew,  boi:ght  a  paper  and  handed  the  boy 
6d.  over  the  side.  I  don't  know  whether  I  looked  what 
Australians  call  '*a  soft  thing"  to  ''take  down,"  or 
whether  that  young  scion  of  a  ''Protectionist"  community 
thought  a  foreigner  lawful  prey  (mind,  I  am  not  opposed 
to  "Protection),  but  that  bare-footed  young  rascal  most 
bare-facedly  fumbled  so  long  in  his  pockets  for  change  that 
finally  his  little  steamer  sheered  off  with  him  and  500  per 
cent,  of  "unearned  increment"  in  his  possession. 

On  landing  at  the  Melbourne  wharf  I  took  a  hansom  to 
the  Melbourne  Coffee  Palace.  Here,  by  the  way,  is  an  in- 
stance of  some  of  several  queer  contradictions  in  the  Eng- 
lish language;  for  my  impression  is  that  the  hansom  took 
me  and  not  I  it— but  the  expression  I  refer  to  is,  I  notice, 
the  usual  form;  for  instance  you  say  you  "take"  or 
"took"  a  train,  or  a  tram,  or  a  boat,  or  a  cab,  and  so  on. 
But,  of  course,  all  languages  have  peculiarities  of  that 
nature. 

Anyhow,  it  felt  something  like  old  times  to  be  using  a 
hansom  once  more,  and  on  this  my  first  arrival  in  Mel- 
bourne itself  I  was  agreeably  surprised  by  the  number  of 
splendid  buildings,  the  fine  streets,  the  busy  tram  and 
general  vehicle  traffic,  the  well  dressed  crowds  of  people 
in  all  the  thoroughfares,  and  the  air  of  bustling  prosperity 
everywhere. 

My  cab  drew  up  in  front  of  one  of  many  imposing  lofty 
edifices  in  one  of  the  main  streets  (Bourke  St.)  and  I  was 


302 


i 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

promptly  knocked  down— figuratively  speaking.  For  in 
the  porter  who  came  out  to  get  my  portmanteau  I  recog- 
nized my  grandee  fellow-passenger  from  Hamburg,  the 
supercilious  gentleman  who  looked  at  the  world  and  other 
remote  objects  through  an  aristocratic  field-glass  and  who 
was  going  to  join  a  wealthy  brother  in  Adelaide,  but  who  it 
turned  out  (from  my  shipmate's  narrative  to  me)  was  so 
far  from  wealthy  as  to  have  nothing  himself. 

But  I  was  naturally  in  a  hurry  to  meet  my  darling  wife, 
so  went  off  to  my  room  to  dress  myself  in  a  brand  new 
suit  to  do  honor  to  the  occasion  and  credit  to  both  parties 
concerned,  and  then  hastened  off  to  Williamstown  by  train. 
The  sun  was  shining  gloriously  and  the  sky  was  radiantly 
blue,  as  is  usual  in  Australia,  and  as  I  stepped  out*  of  the 
train  and  out  of  the  station  I  felt  very  much  as  I  had  done 
on  my  wedding  day ;  and  at  every  step  I  expected  to  catch 
sight  of  the  dear,  familiar,  graceful,  and  sure  to  be  well- 
dressed  figure.  But  as  I  strode  eagerly  down  the  pier, 
neither  there  nor  looking  over  the  great  steamer's  side  was 
my  darling  to  be  seen,  and  a  heavy  cloud  of  misgiving  and 
disappointment  began  to  settle  upon  me,  for  I  had  sent  a 
telegram  from  Hobart  asking  her  to  stay  on  board  till 
my  arrival. 

No  sign  of  her  on  the  ship  itself  when  I  got  on  board, 
and  then  I  hunted  up  the  purser,  who,  after  carefully  look- 
ing over  the  passenger  list,  told  me  there  had  been  no  one 
on  board  of  that  name  or  description. 

■Old  doubts  and  suspicions  arose  afresh  and  thrust  them- 
selves upon  my  burning  brain. 

Had  I  done  wrong  to  leave  her?  She  certainly  had  ob- 
jected to  my  doing  so;  but 'neither  fact  was  any  excuse  for 
neglect  of  wifely  duty  or  even  disappointing  me  in  her  ar- 
rival after  promising  to  come  by  a  certain  boat.  Besides,  I 
had  not  left  her  in  indifference,  but  only  for  our  mutual 
best  benefit. 

In  great  dejection  of  spirit  I  returned  to  Melbourne, 
packed  my  portmanteau,  and  went  straight  back  to  Ho- 
bart.    Here  my  anxiety  was  a  little  relieved,  though  only 

303 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

partially,  for  my  landlady  handed  me  a  letter  from  my 
wife  in  which  she  informed  me  that  she  would  come  by 
the  ''Li^ria"  about  a  fortnight  later. 

I  did  not  go  a  second  time  to  Melbourne  to  meet  her, 
but  wrote,  giving  her  instruction  about  getting  to  Hobart. 

Still,  I  looked  forward  eagerly  to  her  arrival,  and  the 
night  our  steamer  was  due  I  did  not  sleep  a  wink,  but  went 
backward  and  forward  from  my  shop  to  the  wharf  unti' 
I  was  rewarded  by  seeing  her  lights  coming  up  the  habor 
about  4  a.m. 

As  she  drew  slowly  alongside  the  wharf  there  was  no 
wife  of  mine  to  be  seen,  and  I  was  informed  that  the 
ladies  were  all  fast  asleep  in  their  cabins.  I  was  given  a 
cup  of»hot  coffee  and  then  went  home,  reflecting  dismally 
on  what  I  could  not  help  feeling  to  be  cool  indifference  on 
my  wife's  part.  I  had  hoped  and  flattered  myself  that  she 
would  be  just  as  glad  to  see  me  as  1  to  see  her,  or  at  least 
that  she  would  give  me  a  warm  wdfely  greeting— or  the 
show  of  it. 

At  eight  o'clock  I  was  down  at  the  steamer  again,  and 
this  time  my  wife  was  there,  ready,  and  seemed  very 
pleased  to  see  me  again. 

In  preparation  for  my  wife's  coming  I  had  taken  a  nice 
furnished  room,  but  in  a  few  weeks  she  said  we  might  as 
well  instal  ourselves  in  the  rooms  at  my  shop,  as  she  was 
anxious  that  we  should  make  headway  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible. Naturally,  for  some  time  our  matrimonial  sky  was 
all  serene  and  blissful— like  another  honeymoon;  but— 

"How  oft  some  shinging  April  morn 
Is  darkened  in  an  hour; 
And  darkest   griefs   o'er   brightest    joys 
Alas,  unseen  may  lour.'' 


304 


CHAPTER  LXH 


k 


f 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

SPECTJLATIONS— BUSINESS   PRINCIPLES. 

As  I  had  a  rather  extensive  circle  of  friends,  of  course 
for  a  few  weeks  I  was  kept  pretty  busy  introducing  my 
wife  to  them— which  entailed  a  good  deal  of  visiting— so 
dear  to  women 's  hearts.  She  evidently  made  a  most  favor- 
able impression  and  was  well  received  everywhere. 

People  often  used  to  ask  me  if  my  wife  was  a  German 
lady— I  don't  know  what  else  they  thought  she  could  be 
as  her  speech  plainly  showed  she  was  not  English— unless 
they  thought  she  might  be  an  angel  direct  from  the  skies. 
They  seemed  to  have  an  idea  that  German  wom^n  were  all 
of  large  pattern,  like  many  country  folk. 

But  Hobart,  though  a  pleasant  enough  place  to  look  at, 
was  vastly  different  from  and  in  important  respects  infer- 
ior to  Hamburg.  In  size  only  like  a  small  German  town; 
amusements  few  and  not  to  be  compared  with  what  we  had 
been  accustomed  to ;  scarcely  anything  in  the  way  of  fancy 
dress  balls  and  the  like;  and  very  few  people  she  could 
associate  freely  with,  owing  to  her  not  knowing  English. 

I  soon  saw  that  the  life  did  not  suit  her,  she  being  of  a 
lively,  pleasure-loving  disposition.  She  began  to  mope  a 
little,  and,  finding  the  time  hanging  heavily  on  her  hands, 
she  thought  she  would  like  to  open  a  millinery  business  in 
one  half  of  my  shop— that  being  her  original  occupation. 

So  I  went  with  her  to  a  big  store  and  invested  my  sav- 
ings and  a  month's  credit  into  the  bargain,  in  that  uni- 
versally ruinous  kind  of  goods  known  as  millinery.  The 
business,  however,  proved  a  failure,  and  in  the  end  I  dis- 

305 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

posed  of  the  flimsy  foolishness  at  a  considerable  loss.  1 
have  heard  of  a  man  who  was  seen  running  in  breathless 
haste  carrying'  a  large  parcel.  The  friend  who  met  him 
inquired  what  was  his  hurry?  Was  there  anything 
wrong?  ** Don't  hinder  me,  you  meddlesome  fool,"  said 
the  sprinter,  "I  have  just  bought  a  new  bonnet  for  my 
wife,  and  I  want  to  get  home  with  it  before  the  fashion 
changes."  I  don't  know  whether  something  of  that  nature 
spoilt  the  sale  of  my  wife's  stock,  or  whether  the  Hobart 
ladies  divided  their  patronage  in  head-gear  between  plain 
sun-bonnets  and  Melbourne-made  fancy  articles. 

But  my  own  business  was  paying  well,  so  I  was  able  to 
punctually  fulfill  my  obligation  to  the  proprietor  of  the 
store  where  the  goods  had  been  purchased.  This  gentle- 
man was  a  minister  of  the  Crown,  and  it  was  not  a  little 
to  him  that  I  owed  my  success  in  Hobart. 

The  transaction  above  mentioned  was  the  means  of  mak- 
ing me  favorably  known  to  him,  and  a  little  later  I  asked 
him  if  he  could  help  me  to  import  some  goods.  He  as- 
sented, and  I  then  ordered  sewing  machines,  guns,  and 
other  articles  to  the  value  of  £120. 

When  the  merchant  asked  me  how  I  was  going  to  pay 
him,  I  replied  that  I  had  never  had  anything  to  do  with 
"bills,"  but  would  pay  as  soon  as  the  money  came  in.  He 
was  quite  satisfied  and  only  charged  me  71/2  per  cent,  com- 
mission. 

I  had  to  look  for  a  larger  shop,  however,  and  took  one  on 
Liverpool  street,  or,  rather,  I  took  half  of  a  double-fronted 
shop  with  good  dwelling  rooms  upstairs.  The  other  part 
of  the  shop  and  a  workshop  besides  were  occupied  by  a 
tailor  I  found  afterwards  that  while  I  was  paying  him 
18s.  per  week  for  my  share  of  the  premises,  h^  was  only 
paying  £1  for  the  whole,  so  that  his  share  only  cost  him 
2s.  per  week!  This  was  pretty  smart  on  his  part,  and  it 
was  over  twelve  months  before  I  found  out  the  facts;  I 
can  tell  you  I  did  not  feel  at  all  pleased  on  making  the 
discovery,  and  at  once  looked  for  and  secured  another 
place.     My  business  continued  to  pay  fairly  well,  and  in 

806 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

very  little  over  a  year  I  had  paid  off  my  debt  to  my  bene- 
factor and  as  a  result  of  the  whole  enterprise  I  cleared 
about  £150  profit  for  myself  out  of  it;  so  it  was  a  good 
speculation. 

The  merchant  I  have  mentioned  used  to  give  many 
young  men  all  over  the  country  a  chance  by  stocking  them 
with  goods ;  but  in  several  cases  they  robbed  him  in  return 
for  his  kindness,  and  when  in  the  end  he  tried  to  recover 
something  they  had  not  a  good  word  to  say  for  him,  but  a 
good  many  unpleasant  words  against  him.  To  me  he  was 
most  kind.  I  think  it  only  right  now  to  mention  his  name, 
a  well-known  one,  Sir  Philip  Fysh,  now  a  member  of  the 
Federal  Parliament  of  Australia. 


307 


CHAPTER  LXIli 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

A   BAD    NIGHT,   AND   A    COMIC   TRAGEDY. 

One  day  I  set  out  for  Franklin,  a  small  township  on 
the  River  Huon  and  about  twenty  miles,  or  perhaps  a  little 
more  by  road,  south-west  of  Hobart.  It  was  a  pleasant 
little  trip  over  rather  hilly  farming  and  bush  land,  largely 
the  latter,  but  with  here  and  there  neat  cottages,  gardens, 
and  orchards.  A  friend  had  given  me  a  lift  in  his  trap, 
and  he  being  a  commercial  traveler  we  called  at  several 
places  on  the  way.  This  delayed  us  and  we  were  over- 
taken by  a  thunderstorm. 

A  lady  had  called  at  my  shop  one  day  and  asked  if  T 
came  around  that  way  at  any  time  to  call  at  their  farm,  a 
few  miles  from  Franklin,  to  repair  a  machine  for  her. 
There  being  no  conveyance  available  unless  specially  hired. 
I  had  to  walk  the  distance;  but  this  I  thought  little  of, 
being  well  used  to  tramping  about. 

But  the  Australian  climate  is  very  feminine,  lovely  as  a 
general  rule,  but  sometimes  very  capricious  and  puzzling 
—you  are  apt  to  get  a  storm  about  your  ears  in-  less  than 
no  time. 

When  I  had  gone  about  a  mile  on  the  road  it  began  to 
rain  and  in  a  very  short  time  it  was  pouring  in  torrents, 
so  that  long  before  I  reached  my  destination  I  was 
drenched  to  the  skin  and  in  places  wading  through  mud 
up  to  my  knees.  Australian  country  folk  are  usually  very 
hospitable,  and  on  my  arrival  at  the  farm  the  good  lady— 
a  typical  portly  and  pleasant  country  woman  with  a  grown- 
up family— made  me  change  my  wet  clothes  for  a  rig-out 

309 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

belonging  to  one  of  her  sons  and  provided  me  with  an  ap- 
petizing lunch,  after  which  I  duly  repaired  the  machine, 
which  took  most  of  the  afternoon  to  do — the  woman  and 
her  two  strapping  healthy-colored  daughters  busying  them- 
selves in  and  about  the  house  meantime,  as  also  did  one 
of  the  sons. 

Toward  evening  three  other  sons  came  slowly  drifting 
homewards  from  different  points  of  the  compass— some- 
thing in  the  style  of  coasting  barges  making  for  port  in  a 
light  breeze.  There  were  four  sons  altogether— fine  stal- 
wart fellows,  but  shy  and  awkward,  though  now  and  again 
one  or  other  of  their  voices  could  be  heard  like  fog-horns 
at  sea  as  they  shouted  at  the  cattle  or  to  each  other  and 
their  sisters  in  a  boisterous  free  and  easy  style. 

Tea  was  one  of  the  smartest  bits  of  exercise  I  ever  saw. 
Great  slices  of  meat  and  heaps  of  vegetables  were  shovelled 
away  below  with  both  fork  and  knife,  and  huge  chunks  of 
tart  and  bread  and  butter  and  sundries  were  shot  down 
afterwards  like  cargo  into  the  holds  of  shipping. 

While  the  women  cleared  away  the  table  wreckage,  two 
of  the  sons  hauled  in  two  or  three  huge  logs  on  a  rough 
sledge  and  between  them  lifted  those  logs  onto  the  remains 
of  the  fire  still  burning  in  the  large  fireplace  of  the  kitchen. 
That  fireplace  was  almost  a  little  room  in  itself,  being  in 
fact  the  entire  width  of  one  end  of  the  room  and  formed 
of  thick  upright  slabs  of  wood  placed  edge  to  edge,  but  not 
so  close  but  that  you  could  put  your  fingers  between  them 
almost  anywhere — so  that  there  was  abundant  draught  and 
ventilation  and  only  moderate  provacy. 

However,  it  was  a  cozy  and  cheerful  fireside,  for  with 
the  aid  of  some  smaller  wood  now  and  then,  the  great  logs 
blazed  and  glowed  magnificently,  and  we  all  sat  around 
chatting  pleasantly— the  women  pretending  to  do  some  sort 
of  needle  work  and  we  men  mostly  smoking. 

I  was  soon  busy  telling  them  about  Germany  and  South 
America,  my  sea-faring  life,  and  my  experiences  generally ; 
and  they  got  so  interested  that  before  long  not  only  did 
they  stare  a  me  with  wide  open  eyes  but  every  mouth  was  i 

310 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

open  too  with  awe-struck  wonderment;  for,  except  the 
mother,  not  one  of  them  had  even  seen  Hobart,  though  not 
quite  thirty  miles  distant.  They  had  never  been  away 
from  their  own  little  neighborhood,  and  seemed  to  know 
hardly  anything  even  by  reading  or  hearsay  of  the  great 
world  outside.  I  doubt  if  they  had  ever  thought  definite- 
ly of  anything  at  all  beyond  the  few  miles  of  bush  around 
them! 

"Say,  mister,"  said  one  of  the  sons,  **when  you  was 
comin'  over  in  the  ship,  where  did  it  put  up  at  night?" 
Perhaps  he  thought  I  was  "having  them"  and  had  an 
idea  of  catching  me  by  cross  examination. 

"The  ship  didn't  put  up  anywhere  at  night,  but  kept 
on  just  the  same  as  in  the  day." 

"But  how  o'd  yees  find  the   way   when   there    was    no 

track  an'  no  stars  becos  of  the  storm?" 
' '  Oh,  we  steered  by  the  compass  ? ' ' 
"Wot's  that,  boss?" 

I  tried  to  explain,  using  my  watch  and  thi»  clock  to  help 
illustrate,  but  I  could  see  that  the  thing  remained  an  in- 
scrutable mystery. 

So,  also,  when  I  happened  to  speak  of  a  ship's  engines; 
they  evidently  managed  to  get  a  confused  notion  that  a 
steamship  was  some  sort  of  gigantic  iron  duck  or  fish 
(ducks  and  fish  they  did  know  something  about)  and  the 
family  sewing  machine  furnished  a  foundation  of  imagina- 
tion and  faith  as  to  the  machinery,  especially  when  two  or 
three  of  the  brothers  recalled  the  half-forgotten  fact  that 
they  had  once  or  twice  seen  distant  steamships  on  the 
Iluon. 

When  bed-time  came  the  mother  showed  me  up  to  an 
upstairs  room  where  I  was  to  sleep.  It  was  a  single  room, 
perched  like  a  small  church  tower  on  one  end  of  the  house, 
and  though  rather  rough,  it  was  very  clean.  I  lost  no  time 
in  getting  to  bed  for  I  was  very  sleepy. 

But  it  was  a  terribly  rough  night,  the  wind  blowing  a 
perfect  hurricane  and   shaking  that   fiimsy   weatherboard 

311 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

room  as  if  there  were  an  earthquake  hard  at  work.  Every 
now  and  again  just  as  I  was  dozing  off  an  extra  violent 
gust  would  scream  around  the  place  like  a  lot  of  charging 
fiends,  the  timbers  would  creak  and  crack,  and  the  whole 
place  seem  about  to  capsize  altogether.  I  could  even  feel 
the  bedstead  lifting  and  slipping  about  on  the  floor. 

But  having  been  a  sailor,  and  therefore  used  to  sleeping 
under  disturbing  influences,  I  at  last  fell  sound  asleep,  and 
when  I  awoke  found  the  sun  shining  brightly  in  at  the  win- 
dow. 

When  I  got  down  stairs  I  found  the  family  smiling  mys- 
teriously—chewing the  cud  of  a  smile  as  it  were— and  re- 
garding me  with  some  curiosity.  They  evidently  expected 
some  entertaining  remarks  about  my  night's  experiences— 
such,  by  the  way,  as  I  once  heard  a  lanky  Gippsland  Lakes 
fisherman  use  in  describing  a  similar  adventure;  his  ac- 
count was  that  he  was  sleeping  in  a  four  post  wooden  bed- 
stead when  he  was  suddenly  awakened  by  a  blast  of  icy 
cold  wind  which  had  blown  a  large  hole  clean  through  two 
opposite  walls  of  the  room,  carried  the  blankets  and  sheets 
away,  stripped  him  of  his  garments  and  one  side  of  his 
hair  and  beard,  and  that  he  only  saved  himself  from  being 
carried  away  bodily  by  elinging  to  the  bedstead  with  arms, 
legs  and  teeth. 

But  I  bore  myself  with  stoical  dignity  and  regard  to 
truth,  and  when  the  god  lady  asked  me  how  I  had  slept, 
and  if  I  had  not  felt  anything  strange  upstairs,  I  replied 
that  I  had  slept  pretty  well  as  soon  as  I  had  got  a  little 
used  to  the  bed  doing  quadrills  and  schottisches  and  polka- 
mazurkes  all  over  the  floor ;  but  that  as  soon  as  I  was  fairly 
asleep  I  had  rather  pleasant  dreams,  first  that  I  was  old 
Noah  circumnavigating  the  world,  then  that  I  was  the  Fly- 
ing Dutchman  trying  to  beat  around  the  Cape  of  Storms. 

Though  they  all  laughed  a  bit,  I  doubt  whether  they 
knew  anything  of  either  Noah  or  the  unhappy  Dutchman, 
so  they  probably  only  enjoyed  my  joke  by  the  same  reason 
that  an  old  German  lady  did  her  new  young  pastor's  ser- 
mon, *'It  was  grand;  I  could  not  understand  a  word  of  it." 

The  old  lady  explained  that  they  built  and  kept  that 

812 


THE   EMIGRANT. 


Hboom  for  visitors;  that,  in  fact,  none  of  their  family  would 
sleep  in  it  on  any  account,  because  they  got  a  creepy  feel- 
ing when  there  was  any  wind. 

tThis  reminds  me  of  a  German  tragedy.  A  young  fel- 
ow  of  a  noble  family  went  to  visit  an  elderly  aunt  who 
?esided  in  an  old  house  in  one  of  the  wild  forest  districts 
of  Southern  Germany,  His  aunt  and  girl  cousins  gave 
him  a  hearty  welcome,  but  apologized  for  only  being  able 
to  give  him  a  small  and  rather  uncomfortable  bedroom,  as 
the  only  spare  apartment  of  better  kind  was  haunted. 

The  nephew,  who  was  a  spirited  youth  and  imbued  with 
the  modern  scientific  and  skeptical  tendencies,  replied, 
**Well,  auntie,  if  you  don't  mind  I  would  like  to  sleep  in 
the  haunted  chamber,  if  you  do  not  object  of  me  having 
my  loaded  revolver  with  me." 

Like  many  others  in  Germany,  the  room  was  old-fash- 
ioned, with  solidly  artistic  old-fashioned  furniture,  for 
such  houses  and  such  furniture  were  meant  to  last,  and 
they  do  last  under  ordinary  conditions— fire  and  auc- 
tioneers being  their  worst  enemies. 

Well,  the  nephew  found  a  cozy  fire  in  the  chimney  place, 
and  after  enjoying  a  cigar  and  a  short  idle  reverie,  he 
locked  the  door,  searched  the  cupboards  and  recesses  to  see 
that  there  was  no  one  in  hiding,  placed  his  revolver  under 
the  pillow,  got  into  bed  and  blew  out  the  candle,  and  in 
a  short  time  was  as  sound  asleep  as  usual. 

A  sensation  of  cold  about  his  lower  limbs  first  created 
an  impression  in  a  dream  that  he  was  wading  through  icy 
water,  then  he  found  himself  awake,  and  there  in  the  dim 
light  which  found  its  way  through  one  of  the  windows  he 
could  see  two  horrible  looking  arms  and  hands  projecting 
over  the  foot-rail  of  his  bedstead ! 

He  clutched  his  revolver  from  under  the  pillow  and 
pointing  at  the  object  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  cried  out, 
*  *  Who  are  you  ?    Speak  or  I  fire. ' ' 

The  ghostly-looking  hands  seemed  to  move  tremulously 
but  no  voice  was  heard,  and  excited  beyond  endurance  the 
young  man  fired,  uttered  a  yell  of  terror,   and  fainted. 

The  shot  and  the  yell  aroused  the  whole  house,  and  in 


k 


313 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

a  few  seconds  the  whole  population,  servants  and  all  were 
knocking  and  clamoring  at  his  bedroom  door,  and,  getting 
no  reply,  soon  forced  it  open. 

They  found  the  youth  lying  unconscious,  with  blood 
trickling  over  the  edge  of  the  bed  onto  the  floor.  The 
women  screamed  and  wept,  one  or  two  went  into  hysterics, 
some  fled;  but  an  old  man-servant  dashed  some  water  into 
the  youth's  face  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  regained  con- 
sciousness. 

*'0h,  dear  Alphonse,  whatever  is  the  matter?"  gasped 
his  aunt,  ''What  did  you  see?"  ''Where  are  you  hurt?" 
While  the  rest  of  the  women-folk  able  to  talk  at  all  were 
firing  off  questions  and  ejaculations  too  numerous  to  record. 

Meantime  the  old  man-servant  was  reconnoitering  dili- 
gently and  presently  picked  up  something  with  which  he 
came  back  to  the  bed,  "The  ghost's  thumb!"  "The 
ghost's  thumb!"  screamed  one  or  two  voices.  The  old  man 
quietly  drew  back  the  bed-cloths  so  as  to  expose  the  young 
man's  feet,  and  said,  "Why,  Master  Alphonse,  you  have 
shot  ofl:  one  of  your  big  toes ! " 

It  was  true,  Alphonse  was  fond  of  sitting  and  lying  with 
his  feet  elevated.  He  had  in  his  sleep  worked  them  up 
onto  the  foot-rail  and  soon,  of  course,  felt  them  cold,  and 
waking,  caught  sight  of  them  in  the  dim  light  and  mistook 
them  for  ghostly  or  murderous  hands,  and  fired  in  too  much 
of  a  hurry. 


314 


CHAPTER  LXIV 


CHAPTER  LXIV.. 

A   TALE  OF  MUSIC,  BEER,  AND   AN   ^'iRON   CROSS/' 

There  being  a  considerable  number  of  Germans  in  Ho- 
bart,  it  was  decided  to  try  to  form  a  German  Club  and 
Liedertafel,  so  a  meeting  was  called  by  advertisement.  The 
meeting  seemed  very  enthusiastic,  officers  were  appointed, 
and  some  of  the  wealthy  Germans  made  grandiloquent 
promises  of  support— and  that  was  as  far  as  they  got  in  the 
matter.  The  organization  was  kept  going  for  a  short  time 
—until  in  fact  we  had  a  concert  in  the  Town  Hall  for  the 
benefit  of  a  Mr.  Schulze,  who  was  a  music  teacher  by  pro- 
fession and  acted  as  our  musical  director  and  conductor. 

So  far  as  knowledge  of  music  was  concerned 'most  of  us 
were  highly  unqualified,  but  that  was  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses of  little  consequence,  as  in  Germany  a  great  many 
Liedertafel  members  are  excellent  singers  although  quite 
untaught  in  musical  theory,  though  of  course  they  have  a 
good  ear  and  voice.  I  myself  am  able  to  sing  any  song  by 
ear  after,  say,  an  hour's  practice. 

Well,  our  musical  director  selected  from  the  club's  mem- 
bers a  double  quartet,  of  whom  I  was  one. 

Being  deeply  interested  (though  not  beneficially)  I 
bought  a  piano  and  also  gave  one  of  my  rooms  for 
practicing  purposes,  and  everything  went  on  satisfactorily 
until  the  tickets  were  issued;  then  things  happened. 

The  director  was  entrusted  with  the  sale  of  most  of  the 
tickets,  and  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  up  to  that 
point  he  was  a  success.  In  fact,  there  was  strong  presump- 
tive evidence  that  such  was  the  case,  for  it  was  noticed  that 

315 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

he  became  a  frequent,  welcome  and  popular  visitor  at  most 
of  the  hotels  of  the  city  and  neighborhood— more  so  than 
his  ordinary  means  or  credit  would  account  for— and 
wherever  you  met  him  you  could  plainly  see  that  he  car- 
ried an  unusual  weight  of  cash— or  its  liquid  equivalent; 
and  his  capacity  for  the  last  was  known  to  be  considerable. 

Besides,  on  practice  nights  we  often  had  to  wait  for  him 
till  all  hours,  and  when  he  did  arrive  (if  at  all)  it  was 
usually  in  such  a  brimful  and  generally  tangled-up  con- 
dition that  music  was  about  the  last  thing  he  was  fit  for. 
The  fact  is  that  he  had  the  failing  so  common  with  musi- 
cal and  other  artists,  and  when  he  had  received  money  for 
the  sale  of  tickets  could  seldom  if  ever  help  indulging. 

The  last  rehearsal  at  our  house  was  to  have  been  held 
the  Saturday  before  the  concert.  We  waited  and  fumed 
till  half  past  ten  o'clock;  then  with  a  face  as  red  and  shiny 
as  if  he  had  erysipelas  in  it,  his  mouth  with  a  smirking 
bottled-up  expression— like  that  of  a  rude  child  about  to 
blow  a  mouthful  of  water  over  someone — his  hat  nearly  on 
his  nose  and  one  ear,  his  coat  buttoned  the  wrong  places, 
his  collar  and  necktie  awry,  and  his  feet  doing  something 
between  a  horn-pipe  and  a  barn  dance,  this  irresponsible 
beer-swiller  came  into  my  shop. 

Of  course,  we  opened  fire  on  him  at  once  in  full  chorus 
and  most  expressive  German,  and  his  reply  translated  was 
something  like  this:  "Oh,  you  (hie)  don'  pay  me  (hie) 
anyshing  (hie)  an'  I  come  w'en-I-like  (hie)  —  "  Then  he 
followed  up  with  all  around  drunken  abuse.  This  made  me 
so  wild  that  I  sprang  up,  seized  him  by  the  neck  and 
another  convenient  "hold"  and  fired  him  out  of  the  room, 
through  the  shop,  and  into  the  street;  then  flung  his  bell- 
topper  after  him.  My  fellow-sufferers  seemed  quite  de- 
lighted with  this  little  performance  and  said  I  had  express- 
ed their  seniments  exactly— he  had  well  deserved  what  he 
got. 

The  eventful  evening  came  and  so  did  the  public,  filling 
the  hall  completely.  But  something  seemed  to  hang  fire, 
for  though  all  the  performers  were  ready  and  waiting  (and, 
by  the  way,  we  had  the  assistance  of  the  best  musical  talent, 

316 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

vocal  and  instrumenal,  in  Hobart)  and  our  Director  in 
evening  dress  and  white  kid  gloves  was  fussing  and  run- 
ning about  all  over  the  place,  and  though  it  was  ten  min- 
utes past  the  time  to  commence,  no  start  was  made,  and  we 
became  puzzled  and  anxious. 

The  trouble  proved  to  be  that  the  rent  (£5)  for  the  hall 
and  piano  had  not  been  paid  and  was  not  forthcoming,  and 
the  hall-keeper  would  not  hand  over  the  key  for  the  piano 
unless  it  was  paid. 

T'he  ''beneficiare"  had  spent  the  money  he  had  received 
for  tickets  as  fast  as  he  got  it— in  unlimited  drinks— and 
was  now  stranded.  He  appealed  to  the  Club  Treasurer 
for  a  loan,  but  the  latter  evidently  knew  him  too  well  and 
refused.  Finally  the  hall-keeper  stretched  a  point  for  the 
sake  of  the  audience  and  the  performers  and  granted  credit 
to  our  distressed  spendthrift  director. 

I  may  as  well  add  another  incident  about  this  musician, 
though  it  happened  much  earlier  than  the  above.  He  had 
been  invited  to  a  luncheon  (or  dinner)  at  Government 
House— he  was  one  of  those  men  who  manage  to  push  in 
everywhere — and  a  week  before  the  important  event  he 
sauntered  into  my  workshop  and  after  flirting  with  a  few 
topics  he  made  a  coolly  audacious  request.  He  said  that  at 
Government  functions  there  are  so  many  who  wear  stars, 
medals,  and  such  "decorations"  that  he  already  felt  quite 
shivery  at  the  thought  of  being  outside  these  constellations. 
'* Could  I  make  him  an  Iron  Cross?"— *' Nobody  would 
know,"  he  argued.  Now  as  is  well  known,  the  *'Iron 
Cross"  is  the  highest  distinction  for  bravery  obtainable  in 
the  German  army  and  navy— just  as  the  Victoria  Cross  is 
in  the  British. 

Though  the  suggestion  was  in  itself  dishonorable  to  my- 
self as  well  as  to  him,  I  could  not  help  smiling  to  myself 
at  the  cool  impudence  of  it  and  the  ludicrous  incongruity 
of  the  Iron  Cross  being  associated  with  him,  for  I  knew 
him  to  be  much  better  qualified  to  wear  the  *' White  Fea- 
ther" than  the  badge  of  proved  courage— provided  the 
said  ** white  feather"  was  sufficiently  bedraggled  and  soiled 

317 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

to  be  in  keeping  with  his  blackguardly  heart  and  habits. 

Deceit  and  fraud  I  always  loathed  and  shunned,  but 
seeing  at  once  a  good  joke  in  prospect  I  promised  to  make 
him  one,  and  kept  my  promise  with  strict  literalness,  if  not 
in  spirit.  In  fact,  I  did  more  than  I  promised,  and  I  am 
not  likely  to  forget  the  complication  of  disgusted  disap- 
pointment and  vexation  on  his  face  when  he  called  for  and 
saw  it  the  day  before  the  great  occasion ;  for  I  had  made  it 
about  four  times  the  size  of  the  real  cross,  w^ith  a  large 
loop  on  top  and  a  piece  of  red  ribbon  of  wide  dimensions 
in  it !  He  saw  I  had  befooled  him,  and  angrily  said  I  had 
made  it  far  too  big.  I  tried  to  comfort  him  by  saying, 
*'Well,  if  you  wear  that  you  will  be  made  an  extra  large 
sized  hero  of,  and  everj^body  will  want  to  know  where  you 
gained  that  distinction;  then  you  can  tell  them  that  you 
are  the  man  who  won  the  battle  of  Sedan— like  Bill  Adams 
won  the  battle  of  Waterloo"  (I  knew  he  had  heard  that 
yarn . 

He  did  not  take  the  idea  at  all  kindly,  but  retired  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  has  got  a  heavy  weight  on  his  mind ; 
I  fear  the  banquet  or  whatever  it  was  was  a  frozen  failure 
from  his  point  of  view. 


318 


CHAPTER  LXV 


F^ 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

I   BECOME  A    HOTEL-KEEPER— EXPERIENCES. 


So  far  I  had  prospered  well  in  business,  better,  in  fact, 
than  any  of  my  shipmates.  Not  that  I  want  to  boast,  for 
I  recognize  that  my  success  was  at  least  largely  due  to  the 
fact  that  I  had  no  competition  in  the  place  in  my  oWn  par- 
ticular line.  However,  1  had  the  gumption  to  make  good 
use  of  my  opportunity  while  I  had  the  chance,  and  I  think 
I  may  fairly  claim  to  have  shown  business  "push,"  indus- 
try, and  thrift.  The  man  before  me  had  the  same  chances, 
but  he  had  made  another  man  rich  and  remained  poor  him- 
self all  his  life. 

But  I  was  not  to  have  things  all  my  own  way  in  the  busi- 
ness; soon  I  had  a  rival.  Many  of  my  acquaintances  en- 
vied me  and  one  of  them  sent  home  for  a  relative  of  his 
who  was  in  the  same  trade  as  myself. 

One  day  the  new  arrival  came  into  my  shop  and  intro- 
duced himself,  telling  me  he  had  taken  my  old  places 
Though,  of  course,  I  was  not  too  pleased,  I  could  not  do 
otherwise  than  treat  him  decently,  and  we  were  not  un- 
friendly. But  naturally  a  part  of  the  trade  went  to  him 
and  I  daresay  some  of  the  local  tradespeople  were  by  no 
means  sorry  that  I  had  competition.  At  all  events  I  found 
my  business  slacken  a  bit,  and  began  to  cast  around  in 
search  of  something  perhaps  better. 

Before  going  further,  I  may  say  at  once  that  while  some 
at  least  of  this  chapter  is  necessary  to  my  tale,  I  have  in 
view  in  writing  it  to  afford  a  few  possibly  useful  hints  to 
others  seeking  to  push  ahead  in  the  world— but  especially 

319 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

as  to  how  to  conduct  a  hotel,  both  so  as  to  make  it  pay  and 
yet  avoid  some  of  the  most  objectionable  features  in  that 
business. 

Having  heard  that  nearly  all  the  Hobart  hotels  belonged 
to  a  large  local  brewery,  I  called  on  the  manager  (for  whom 
I  and  the  music  teacher  I  have  mentioned  had  done  some 
canvassing  in  connection  with  a  Parlimentary  election). 

He  listened  favorably,  and  the  upshot  was  that  before 
many  days  had  passed    I    found  myself    installed    in    the 


MY  HOTEL  IN  HOBART. 

'* Central  Hotel"  on  Liverpool  street  without  having  to 
pay  a  single  penny  down — though  I  accepted  two  outstand- 
ing liabilities  for  £40  each.  I  had  been  offered  a  choice 
of  "houses,"  and  selected  the  one  named  because  of  its 
position  suiting  my  plans,  for  I  intended  to  keep  on  my 
former  business  also. 

I  knew  it  had  not  a  good  reputation,  but  thought  I  could 
greatly  improve  it.  Once  fairly  in  charge  I  had  an  ''eye- 
opener,"  for  I  found  that  the  place  was  frequented  by 
about  the  lowest  of   low   characters— besotted   old   women, 


320 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


loafers,  and  even  thieves  and  such  undesirables.  In  less 
than  a  week  I  was  strongly  inclined  to  throw  up  the  bar- 
gain, for  though  I  had  been  poor  and  lived  with  poor  peo- 
ple, I  was  quite  unused  to  the  class  of  society  which  patron- 
ized my  new  establishment. 

First,  I  set  to  work  to  get  rid  of  the  old  or  disreputable 
women  who  used  to  come  in  for  a  quart  of  beer  and  settle 
themselves  down  to  drink  it  in  little  compartments  which 
were  in  the  bar.  My  common  sense  told  me  their  custom 
did  me  more  harm  than  good,  so  I  had  the  compartments 
removed  and  when  such  women  came  in  for  a  pot  of  beer 
I  told  them  to  take  their  4d.  somewhere  else.  They  did  not 
at  all  like  such  treatment  and  being  deprived  of  old  and 
favorable  haunts.  Several  of  them  abused  me  in  the  vilest 
language,  but  I  quickly  got  rid  of  their  unwelcome  custom. 

The  loafers  and  other  male  customers  were  not  quite  so 
easy  to  deal  with.  For  one  thing  I  had  very  little  other 
custom  to  depend  upon  and  had  to  proceed  cautiously  and 
slowly. 

There  was  a  skittle-alley  attached  to  the  house,  and  some 
of  them  used  to  hang  about  this  and  tYte  bar  sometimes  all 
day  long;  and  now  and  then  they  would  pull  the  coat  off 
some  customer  in  trying  to  get  him  to  ''stand  treat."  I 
soon  stopped  this  little  game  and  also  locked  the  skittle  alley 
against  these  "gentlemen  at  leisure,"  and  notwithstanding 
their  persuasions  and  protestations  I  always  afterwards  re- 
fused them  the  key.  In  short,  I  deliberately  made  them  so 
unwelcome  and  uncomfortable  that  in  about  two  months  1 
had  lost  their  blighting  patronage,  which  was  gradually  re- 
placed by  that  of  a  much  better  class— mostly  working  men. 
For  in  meantime,  I  had  according  to  my  method  in  my  pre- 
vious business  not  waited  for  custom  to  come  of  itself,  hut 
I  had  gone  out  and  about  to  hunt  it  up.  For  instance,  I 
used  to  go  down  to  the  wharf  at  "knock  off"  time  and 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  stevedores  and  others  working 
there,  sometimes,  I  must  confess,  "treating"  them  all 
around  or  in  small  batches.  It  was  "cupboard  love"  per- 
haps at  first  on  their  part  and  a  good  speculation  on  mina^ 


321 


THE   EMIGRANT. 

Moreover,  though  most  of  my  business  was  at  night,  and 
often  pretty  late,  I  was  on  excellent  terms  with  the  police. 
They  did  not  seem  very  strict  about  closing  time  so  long 
as  the  house  was  well  conducted.  In  point  of  fact  they 
never  interfered;  but  many  times,  when  at  about  half  past 
eleven  at  night  I  happened  to  be  standing  on  the  foot-path, 
a  constable  would  cross  over  the  road  to  me  with  some  such 
remark  as,  ' '  Don 't  go  to  bed  yet,  there  are  plenty  of  people 
still  knocking  about  who  would  like  a  night-cap."  Of 
course,  I  quite  understood  that  this  was  in  part  a  delicate 
hint  that  the  representative  of  the  law  was  himself  in  very 
strong  personal  sympathy  with  those  wanting  ''nighcaps" 
—  identified  himself  with  them,  so  to  speak. 


322 


CHAPTER  LXVI 


I 


CHAPTER  LXVI. 

A  FAITHLESS  WIFE. 

I  come  now  to  the  most  miserable  and  painful  period  of 
my  life — althoug-h  well  on  the  road  towards  my  ambitions. 
Indeed,  this  seems  to  be  very  commonly  the  case  in  human 
affairs.  From  childhood  upwards  almost  everything  you  es- 
pecially set  your  heart  upon  either  proves  more  or  less  dis- 
appointing when  it  is  attained,  or,  if  satisfactory  in  itself, 
something  else  of  equal  or  even  greater  importance  goes 
wrong  and  everything  becomes  more  or  less  "vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit."  It  is  well  said  that  "Fortune  never 
comes  with  both  hands  full. "  Is  it  that  no  man  or  woman 
can  expect  to  be  favored  with  all  the  good  things  of  life, 
and  that  all  of  us  have  merely  some  choice  as  that  granted 
to  Solomon, — worldly  prosperity,  or  alternatively  the  satis- 
faction resulting  from  "wisdom?" 

Or,  is  it,  as  many  preach,  that  this  early  life  is  neces- 
sarily and  of  some  supreme  purpose  filled  with  disappoint- 
ments, for,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  very  rare  indeed  are  the 
exceptions  ? 

I  don 't  want  to  expend  space  in  moralizing  to  any  extent, 
but  must  risk  just  a  very  few  lines  more  on  this  topic,  by 
way  of  more  definite  illustration. 

Whether  it  be  some  toy  of  our  childhood;  some  eagerly 
looked  for  holiday ;  some  hard  fought  for,  or  coveted  prize ; 
some  jewel,  or  property,  or  business;  some  position  of  dig- 
nity or  influence  and  power;  some  tour  of  pleasure— almost 
anything  you  can  name  that  is  the  object  of  human  desire 
and  effort,  how  seldom  the  attainment  or  reality  does  not 

323 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


disappoint  expectations.    Is  it  not  too  often  so  of  marria 
of  our  children  and  our  aims  for  them? 

Now  once  more  to  my  tale,  from  even  the  darker  and 
grosser  pages  of  which  the  thoughtful  reader  may  p^erhaps 
glean  something  profitable.  It  is  at  least  a  tale  of  real  life, 
and  solid  fact. 

One  day  four  gay  young  fellows  from  Melbourne  came 
to  take  lodgings  for  a  month  with  us ;  they  were  on  a  holi- 
day trip.  Of  course,  we  were  very  pleased  to  have  them, 
from  a  business  point  of  view,  and  naturally  did  our  best 
to  make  them  com  fort  ale  and  at  home. 

As  is  usual  amongst  Australians,  there  was  a  free  and 
easy  gaiety,  a  rather  boisterous  joviality  about  these  visit- 
ors, and  a  certain  degree  of  friendliness  quickly  sprang  up 
between  them  and  ourselves. 

One  day  they  asked  me  to  allow  my  wife  to  accompany 
them  on  an  excursion  to  the  Silver  Falls  at  Mt.  Wellington. 
To  this  I  at  first  objected,  of  course ;  but  my  wife  private- 
ly urged  that  they  were  good  customers  and  that  it  would 
look  ungracious  and  almost  an  insult  to  them  to  decline  the 
invitation.  ** Surely  you  can  trust  me,"  she  said.  Yes,  I 
thought  I  could  trust  her;  and  being  persuaded  by  her 
representations  I  finally  let  her  go,  though  not,  I  must  con- 
fess, without  some  misgivings. 

Some  time  afterwards  I  found  out  and  had  the  clearest 
proof  that  she  had  flirted  with  and  allowed  herself  to  be 
drawn  into  a  love  affair  with  one  of  these  young  men,  whom 
for  convenience  for  future  mention  I  will  call  '^Arthur 
Gray"  (the  surname  being  a  false  one).  But  for  the  time, 
as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  I  was  completely  hoodwinked.  So 
far  as  I  can  see,  you  never  know  what  man  or  woman  is 
worthy  of  trust,  and  who  unworthy.  I  have  been 
forced  to  the  opinion  that  there  are  very  few  indee  1 
who  can  be  trusted;  and  that  besides  the  terrible  amount 
of  conjugal  unfaithfulness  that  is  publicly  exposed  there  is 
a  still  vaster  quantity  that  is  never  discovered. 

I  sometimes  think  that  the  Orientals  are  wiser  than  we. 
Yet  after  all  it  may  merely  be  that  there  is  ''a  screw  loose" 

324 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

either  in  our  youthful  training  or  else  in  our  social  cus- 
toms—perhaps in  both.  The  friend  I  have  referred  to  al- 
ready, argues  to  this  effect. 

In  my  wife's  case  I  certainly  think  it  was  at  least  partly 
an  instance  of  heredity,  from  her  graceless  scamp  of  a 
father,  though  also  partly,  it  may  be,  due  to  a  defect  in 
early  influences. 

Their  holiday  over,  the  young  men  returned  to  Mel- 
bourne, but,  as  I  heard  later,  my  wife  corresponded  secret- 
ly with  Arthur  Gray,  he  addressing  his  letters  to  her  to  the 
Post  Office.    More  of  this  will  appear  further  on. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  affair  of  the  kind. 

Some  little  time  afterwards  another  gentleman  visitor 
called  at  our  hotel — a  very  imposing  personage — imposing 
in  more  respects  than  one.  He  threw  a  handful  of  sover- 
eigns on  the  counter  and  proclaimed  himself  a  railway  con- 
tractor from  Sydney.  He  became  a  frequent  visitor,  and  of 
course  a  profitable  customer.  There  was  nothing,  however, 
to  arouse  any  suspicion  on  my  part  at  the  time. 

Now,  one  of  the  disadvantages  of  hotel  life  is  that  the 
licensee  and  his  wife  can  seldom  go  out  together,  scarcely 
ever  except  on  Sundays.  Naturally  my  wife  often  used  to 
go  out  alone  walking  or  shopping. 

One  afternoon  on  returning  from  a  walk  my  wife  remark- 
ed that  she  should  like  to  have  a  holiday  in  Melbourne ;  that 
she  could  write  to  a  young  lady  friend  of  ours,  the  daugh- 
ter of  one  of  my  shipmates,  who  was  in  service  with  a  Ger- 
man family  in  Melbourne  and  who  had  been  staying  with  us 
in  a  friendly  way  for  a  holiday;  and  that  through  this 
young  lady  friend  she  would  most  likely  be  able  to  find  safe 
accommodation. 

I  consented,  being  willing  to  afford  my  wife  every  right- 
ful pleasure,  and  the  result  of  a  letter  was  a  reply  convey- 
ing an  intimation  from  our  friend's  mistress  that  my  wife 
was  welcome  to  stay  with  her.  This  seemed  satisfactory 
and  safe,  and  a  few  days  later  my  wife  came  home  with  a 
passage  ticket  to  Melbourne. 
I     This  fact  did  not  strike  me  as  at  all  strange,  since  I  never 

326 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

kept  her  short  of  money,  although  1  kept  the  books  and  paid 
all  accounts  myself.  I  naturally  thought  she  had  paid  for 
the  ticket  herself,  instead  of  which  it  afterwards  appeared 
the  contractor  previously  mentioned  had  done  so. 

When  the  day  of  her  departure  arrived,  I  escorted  her  to 
the  steamer  and  noticed  the  contractor  on  the  wharf,  he 
raising  his  hat  to  us  as  we  passed.  There  was  not  the  slight- 
est suspicion  on  my  part,  as  I  then  knew  of  no  reason  for 


it;  and  there  are  always,  of  course,  plenty  of  people  who 
go  to  see  a  boat  off. 

He  was,  however,  there  with  the  express  object  of  seeing 
whether  my  wife  got  away  by  that  steamer  or  not.  When 
the  vessel  was  fairly  off  he  strolled  up  to  me  and  exchanged 
a  few  friendly  words,  oft'-handedly  remarking  during  our 
short  conversation,  "Yes,  my  holiday  is  over   now   and   I 


326 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


must  leave  for  my  home  in  Sydney  in  a  couple  of  days,  by 
the  Oona. ' ' 

He  did  actually  go  by  that  steamer,  but  on  arrival  in 
Sydney  he  took  train  to  Melbourne  and  was  met  and  wel- 
comed at  the  Spencer  St.  Station  by  my  wife  and  her  friend. 
It  was  only  by  an  accident  that  I  eventually  discovered 
these  and  other  facts;  but  for  that  accident  I  should  prob- 
rbly,  like  thousands  of  other  husbands,  never  have  known 
anything  about  these  matters. 

It  seems  that  he  frequently  took  her  for  drives  and  tried 
to  persuade  her  to  take  a  trip  to  England  with  him.  She, 
however,  would  not  take  that  desperate  step,  probably  fear- 
ing that  he  would  sooner  or  later  cast  her  off  and  that  she 
would  then  have  nobody  to  depend  upon.  I  have  often 
since  wished  that  she  had  gone,  for  the  anguish  to  me  would 
have  been  more  quickly  over  and  done  with;  in  fact,  I 
should  have  thus  been  spared  my  most  acute  and  grievous 
suffering. 

I  may  mention  that  this  contractor  had  a  wife  and  a  nice 
little  boy  in  Sydney,  and  he  had  shown  my  wife  and  my- 
self a  miniature  photo  of  this  little  son  set  in  the  cover  of 
his  gold  watch. 

It  also  came  out  afterwards  that  not  only  did  she  carry 
on  this  disgraceful  affair,  but  so  debased  and  fallen  was  she 
that  she  frequently  met  that  treacherous  young  scoundrel 
Arthur  "Gray"  and  several  others  who  dressed  and  posed 
as  gentlemen,  but  who  by  habit  and  conduct  were  no  more 
*' gentlemen"  than  if  they  were  putrefying  corpses;  "black- 
guards" is  too  mild  a  name  for  them. 

While  she  was  in  Melbourne  and  behaving  so  disgrace- 
fully towards  me  I  received  from  her  most  loving  letters— 
such  letters  as  a  true  and  devoted  wife  might  pen,  and  giv- 
ing misleading  accounts  of  apparently  innocent  doings.  De- 
ceived by  these  and  lulled  into  false  security  by  the  fact 
that  she  was  staying  with  a  friend  and  with  a  most  respect- 
able family,  I  had  not  the  faintest  suspicion  of  anything  be- 
ing wrong,  for,  remember,  I  knew  absolutely  nothing  as  yet 
of  any  of  these  love  affairs  I  have  alluded  to.    Nor  do  I 

327 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

think  the  young  lady  friend  was  to  blame  in  them.  She, 
of  course,  had  her  duties  to  attend  to;  whereas  my  wife 
had  ample  leisure  and  liberty. 


328 


CHAPTER  LXVII 


CHAPTER  LXVII. 


It  was  evening,  after  dark,  and  I  was  standing  on  the 
pier  in  Hobart  waiting  for  the  steamer  which  was  bringing 
my  wife  back  from  Melbourne.  The  vessel  was  getting 
close  in,  say  about  twenty  yards  away,  and  I  wa§  eagerly 
scanning,  as  well  as  the  weak  light  permitted,  the  crowd 
upon  her  deck  for  the  dearly  loved  face  and  figure  of  my 
wife,  when  I  suddenly  heard  her  well-known  voice  calling 
me  by  the  pet  name,  '*Ady"  (pronounced  "Ah-dy")  which 
she  had  given  me  when  we  were  first  married.  To  hear  it 
and  the  sweet  fond  tone  in  which  it  was  uttered  thrilled  mo 
with  intense  joy— it  was  the  echo-voice  of  early  love,  to  me 
like  a  strain  of  music  from  heaven  itself— and  it  still  rings 
in  my  ears  as  I  write,  as  in  fact  it  often  does— and,  oh,  I 
never  can  forget  it— one  of  the  very  last  echoes  from  the 
most  joyous  part  of  my  life— from  the  love-music  of  the 
honeymoon.  It  is  now  as  a  memory  voice  from  the  dead — 
yet  no,  from  the  worse  than  dead,  for  in  death  there  is  rest 
if  not  hope  and  there  is  still  a  something  if  only  a  memory 
that  connects  us  with  the  sweet  past.  But  something  in- 
finitely worse  than  death  was  to  come,  had  in  fact  already 
come,  though  as  yet  I  knew  it  not,  between  me  and  my  once 
wife— something  that  severed  us  completely,  and  utterly  an- 
nihilated all  that  had  bound  us  together.  At  least  so  it 
seems  to  my  human  eye  and  mind ;  yet— is  it  just  possible 
that  after  all,  as  I  was  taught  in  my  earliest  days  and  as  T 
know  very  many  today  firmly  believe  and  in  all  good  faith 
teach,  the  sweet  past  is  not  irrevocably  cut  off  and  destroy- 

329 


THE    EMIGRANT.  ' 

ed,  but  that  only  what  is  evil  and  loathsome  is  cast  into 
nothingness  and  all  that  is  good  in  itself  is  purified  and  re- 
newed by  some  supreme  power  and  beneficence  1 

I  may  not  be  able  to  believe  in  this,  but  I  would  that  such 
a  wonderful  thing  could  be;  then  there  would  indeed  be 
something  to  look  forward  to— a  new  sunrise  of  joy  after 
the  gloom  of  night,  a  new  spring  as  real  as  the  past  one,  for 
the  same  things  that  are  now  seemingly  dead  and  cold  in 
winter,  new  buds  and  fiowers  and  fruit  on  stems  that  now 
seem  lifeless  (and,  but  for  our  past  experience,  hopeless 
also).  The7i  I  might  hope  to  see  my  dear  mother  once  more 
—and  perhaps  eternally;  once  more;  nay,  untold  millions 
of  times  more,  hear  again,  not  as  an  echo,  but  in  reality, 
'*Ady,  my  Ady"  from  lips  once  dearer  to  me  than  any 
others. 

'' Superstition r '  '' Impossible T '  ''Miracles  never  hap- 
pen ? "    "  Nothing  but  hard  and  fast  natural  laws  ? " 

Well,  I  hurried  on  board  and  was  greeted  with  the  fond- 
est endearments  and  protestations  of  joy  to  be  home  with 
me  again.  It  is  needless  and  would  not  be  in  the  best  of 
taste  to  detail  them.  It  is  sufficient  to  say  they  were  much 
waxmer  and  more  satisfactory  than  on  one  or  two  previous 
occasions  of  a  similar  nature  described  in  this  book;  but, 
reader,  I  very  soon  was  to  discover  that  those  endearments, 
whether  at  the  moment  sincere  or  not — and  possibly  there 
may  have  been  some  element  of  repentant  sincerity  in  them 
—those  endearments  masked  the  blackest  deceit  and  sin 
against  me ;  so  grievous  was  that  sin  and  its  results  that  I 
may  not  further  speak  of  it.  I  may  not  even  narrate  how 
the  hideous  truth  was  forced  upon  me;  I  am  compelled  to 
bury  several  facts  in  silence— though  I  may  perhaps  ven- 
ture to  say  that  she  did  not  at  the  time  fully  realize  the 
enormity  of  her  fault  and  its  inevitable  exposure. 

1  may  add,  however,  that  on  arriving  at  home  she  gave 
me  a  number  of  little  presents  she  had  bought  for  me,  and 
also  some  money  with  a  playful  remark  about  what  a  care- 
ful wife  she  had  been,  not  having  spent  the  $25  I  had  given 
her  as  pocket  money.    Can  you  wonder  at  my  loss  of  faith 

3&) 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

in  women?  And  besides  these  instances  and  others  I  may 
have  given  or  shall  give,  there  are  some  which  came  within 
my  personal  knowledge  which  common  decency  compels  me 
to  suppress. 

Even  when  my  wife 's  guilt  was  made  manifest  to  me  the 
thought  of  parting  from  her  was  unendurable.  It  w^as 
agony  either  way,  and  we  just  drifted  on  for  a  time  to- 
gether. 

But  I  was  utterly  heartsick  of  the  business  and  locality 
and  very  quickly  sold  out  for  the  sum  of  £225,  and  we  pack- 
ed up  and  went  to  Sydney  with  about  £800  in  hard  cash  in 
hand ;  it  was  in  fact  all  in  golden  sovereigns.  I  think  that 
sum  was  a  very  satisfactory  result  of  my  first  five  years 
(1885  to  1890)  residence  and  efforts  in  Australia,  and  re- 
mcuTfibering  that  I  left  Grermany  with  only  about  Is.  6d.  in 
my  pocket  and  had  come  to  a  land  of  which  I  knew  noth- 
ing--not  even,  at  starting,  a  word  of  the  language.  Yet  I 
have  done  far  better  since,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
folly  and  wickedness  of  my  wife  (undoubtedly  inherited 
from  her  father,  as  I  have  before  said),  she  and  I  could 
hav-3  had  a  happy  life  together  and  been  in  all  probability 
living  with  each  other  happily  this  very  day— enjoying  the 
full  fruit  of  our  toil. 


331 


CHAPTER  LXVllI 


CHAPTER  LXVIII. 

I  CARRY  £800  IN  GOLD  FROM   TASMANIA  TO  SYDNEY. 

I  have  just  said  that  I  carried  £800  away  to  Sydney :  I 
may  as  well  tell  you  how  I  did  so,  and  I  may  say  that  1 
would  undertake  to  carry  any  amount  round  the  world 
without  being  molested,  for  as  in  this  instance,  I  should 
take  good  care  not  to  let  anyone  know  I  had  any  to  speak  of. 
As  the  bank  wanted  about  £5  for  transfer  I  had  made  my- 
self a  long  thin  bag,  just  wide  enough  to  allow  a  pile  of 
sovereigns  to  be  pushed  in  endways.  I  did  them  up  in 
small  parcels  of  twenty-five  coins  in  each  parcel  and  sealed 
up  both  ends.  Then  I  slipped  the  parcels  one  after  the 
ether  into  the  bag,  and  fixed  this  so  that  I  could  carry  it 
comfortably  round  my  shoulders.  I  engaged  a  cabin  which 
could  be  locked  securely,  and  here  I  left  my  private  little 
bank  when  in  the  day  time  I  promenaded  the  deck;  but  I 
always  took  care  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  my  cabin  door 
through  the  skylight.  And,  by-the-way,  I  did  not  take  my 
wife  with  me  on  that  trip;  she  followed  later. 

Arrived  in  Sydney,  I  deposited  my  capital  in  the  Bank  of 
New  South  Wales,  and  I  can  assure  you  the  ''teller"  look- 
ed not  a  little  astonished  when  he  saw  me  getting  out  roll 
after  roll  of  sovereigns.  He  may  have  taken  me  for  a  bush- 
ranger, or  a  pirate,  or  even  a  mint,  for  all  I  know. 

I  had  an  idea  of  going  into  the  hotel  business  again,  and 
my  wdfe  several  times  pressed  me  to  see  our  late  acquaint- 
ance Mr.  Contractor,  as  he  had  told  us  in  Hobart  that  if  we 
cared  to  come  to  Sydney  he  could  introduce  me  to  various 
brewers  and  in  this  and  other  ways  do  a  good  deal  to  help 

333  ~ 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

me  in  getting  a  good  business  there.  But  somehow  I  pre- 
ferred to  do  without  his  aid,  though  I  was  quite  ignorant 
of  what  had  transpired  between  my  wife  and  him. 

I  made  inquiries  and  inspected  several  hotels,  but  found 
nothing  to  suit  me,  and  we  then  decided  to  try  Melbourne. 

It  would  be  of  more  general  interest,  no  doubt,  if  I  could 
now  play  the  part  of  a  darling  ''fillibusterer"— sail  away 
with  a  few  wild  spirits  to  some  unheard  of  island,  meet  with 
desperate  adventures,  and  forcibly  carry  off  some  treasure 
trove— or  something  in  that  gaudy  line. 

But  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  exercise  my  fancy  in  regions 
of  romance;  I  must  keep  to  facts.  I  will  spare  you,  how- 
ever, unnecessary  details. 

The  following  experience  I  give,  thinking  it  may  serve 
one  or  two  good  purposes— if  you  can  find  them. 

We  took  rooms  in  Melburne  and  I  thought  of  taking  some 
wine  shop.  Amongst  others  I  looked  at  one  for  which  £250 
was  asked.  Now  I  never  believe  in  giving  much  for  a  busi- 
ness—would rather  work  up  one  myself.  So  I  let  this 
chance  go. 

Another  was  kept  by  a  countryman  of  mine,  but  I  could 
see  that  he  was  not  making  the  business  pay  (as  it  might 
have  done),  and  I  thought  it  would  be  worth  my  while  to 
await  developments— and  keep  my  eye  on  the  place.  So  I 
gave  him  a  look-in  every  day. 

It  is  well  known  that  wine  shops  have  usually  a  very  bad 
reputation,  being  often  mere  coverts  for  low  characters,  but 
all  are  not  of  that  class. 

Well,  the  man  I  was  speaking  of  was,  as  I  saw  from  the 
first,  no  business  man.  He  was  never  downstairs  before 
eleven,  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  even  then  only  in  most 
slo-venly  dress  mostly  undress.  Yet  he  had  to  pay  £2,  12s.  6d. 
per  week  rent.  Well,  his  stock  quickly  ran  out  and  he  was 
unable  to  replace  it.  Then  he  was  persuaded  by  a  frequent 
customer  to  get  some  lager  beer  in  stock,  though  other  peo- 
ple strongly  advised  him  not  to  do  so.  It  was  hardly  in  the 
place,  when  the  customer  mentioned  called  with  a  friend 
of  his  and  both  had  drinks  of  the  beer.    They  were  acting 

334 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

as  Revenue  Detectives  and  a  few  days  later  the  shop-keeper 
was  served  with  a  summons  for  selling  beer  without  a  li- 
cense. It  was  a  despicably  dirty  trick  played  by  the  in- 
formers—to advise  the  man  to  break  the  law  just  to  make 
money  themselves  by  giving  information. 

The  man  showed  me  the  summons  and  asked  my  advice, 
stating  that  he  had  not  so  much  as  £1,  far  less  the  means 
to  pay  a  fine  of  £25,  and  that  if  he  could  not  he  would  have 
to  go  to  jail. 

I  felt  really  sorry  for  him,  nor  did  I  consider  him  guilty 
of  much  of  a  crime ;  so,  being  I  think  va  man  of  some  re- 
source, I  gave  him  the  best  advice  that  occurred  to  me. 

I  said,  ''There  is  a  steamer  going  to  Sydney  to-morrow 
morning.  I  will  give  you  £1  apd  you  hand  me  over  the 
license.  Then  take  a  steerage  ticket  on  the  boat  for  10s. 
and  that  leaves  you  10s  to  go  on  with,  and  I  will  look  after 
your  wife  and  children  till  you  can  send  for  them." 

After  consultation  with  his  wife  they  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  this  was  the  best  thing  he  could  do;  so  when 
the  case  came  on  the  bird  had  flown.  I  was  very  glad  the 
rascally  informers  were  done  out  of  their  Judas  money. 
It  is  a  pity  the  law  has  to  employ  such  men,  but  suppose 
it  cannot  well  be  helped. 

I  lodged  the  license  with  an  application  for  its  transfer 
to  me.  When  the  case  came  on  the  Inspector  of  Police 
said  to  the  Bench,  "Well,  your  worships,  I  would  like  this 
case  postponed  as  this  man  has  only  been  here  three  weeks 
and  I  desire  to  make  inquiries  as  to  how  he  conducted  his 
hotel  in  Hobart." 

I  had  with  me  a  testimonial  from  a  then  minister  of  the 
Crown,  now  one  of  the  leading  members  in  the  Common- 
wealth Parliament,  and  I  handed  it  up  to  the  Bench.  After 
glancing  it  over  the  Presiding  Magistrate  said,  "Well,  In- 
spector, you  need  not  make  inquiry  about  that  man;  li- 
cense granted." 

I  may  be  pardoned,  I  hope,  for  inserting  the  testimonial 
referred  to,  as  some  recommendation  to  the  readers  of  this 
book  also: 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

HoBART,  Dec.  1,  1888. 
''P.  O.  Fysh  &  Co.,  Melbourne; 
Basinghall  St.,  London. 

''Mr.  A.  Jager  has  been  known  to  me  during  the  whole 
period  of  his  residence  in  Tasmania— three  years. 

"I  have  had  business  transactions  with  him  and  found 
him  most  reliable  and  as  a  citizen  I  believe  his  conduct 
has  been  exemplary. 

*'I  would  repose  the  most  implicit  confidence  in  his  in- 
tegrity, sobriety  and  general  reliability  of  character. 

(Signed)  P.  0.  Fysh. 

Well,  I  bought  the  furniture  at  auction,  it  being  sold 
by  the  landlord  for  arrears  of  rent.  Then  I  had  the  place 
thoroughly  cleaned  and  generally  renovated  and  laid  in  a 
good  stock  of  wines.  When  all  was  ready  I  followed  my 
usual  plan  of  hunting  up  customers,  as,  for  instance,  by 
visiting  and  making  myself  known  at  clubs,  etc.  I  men- 
tion this  as  a  hint  to  others  trying  to  make  headway  in 
business. 

My  wife  was  also  a  decided  attraction,  being  still  a 
charming  and  pleasant  mannered  woman.  But  in  that 
was  our  undoing. 

She  must  have  been  in  communication  with  that  villain 
Arthur  Gray,  and  acquainted  him  with  our  whereabouts, 
for  he  became  a  very  frequent  visitor  and  brought  a  lot 
of  other  men  with  him.  I  have  little  doubt  now,  that  they 
all  laughed  in  their  sleeves  at  me.  Ignorant  as  I  was  of 
the  true  state  of  things,  yet  I  could  not  help  certain  sus- 
picions and  was  very  far  from  happy. 

In  fact,  so  wretched  did  I  become  that  before  long  I 
found  myself  beginning  to  positively  hate  that  woman 
whom  once  I  had  loved  better  than  myself. 


336 


CHAPTER  LXIX 


CHAPTER  LXIX. 

MY  WIFE  GOES  BACK  TO  GERMANY— OUR  PARTING. 

After  a  time  I  sold  the  wine  shop  to  advantage  (for 
about  £138)  and  we  moved  to  one  of  some  cottages  I  had 
been  able  to  invest  some  of  my  money  in,  in  a  surburb  and 
took  in  a  few  boarders.  (In  an  early  chapter  of  this  book 
I  have  written  strongly  against  such  risky  commodities— 
now  comes  a  fresh  reason  of  the  same  nature. 

One  morning  I  was  about  to  take  my  usual  cold  bath, 
but  on  this  occasion  it  was  rather  too  cold,  and  I  changed 
my  mind.  Consequently  I  came  inside  quicker  than  my 
wife  expected  and  found  her  coming  out  of  the  boarder's 
room,  where  one  was  still  in  bed.  Her  excuse  in  reply  to 
my  natural  question  was  that  she  had  gone  in  to  get  the 
newspaper,  which  she  had  in  her  hand.  I  did  not  feel 
satisfied,  but  not  being  sure  of  my  ground  I  repressed  my 
anger  for  the  time.  Nevertheless  I  resolved  to  put  an  end 
to  this  unpleasant  state  of  things. 

For  some  time  she  had  been  asking  me  to  let  her  take  a 
trip  home ;  and  as  a  little  later  we  had  a  letter  from  one 
of  my  shipmates  in  Tasmania  stating  that  he  was  going 
back  to  Germany  with  his  family,  I  told  her  I  would  let 
her  have  money  to  make  the  journey  with  them.  She  was 
delighted,  and  when  the  time  came  I  took  her  and  her  lug- 
gage to  join  them  on  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  II.  at  Port  Mel- 
bourne, having  previously  secured  a  cabin  for  her.  I  also 
gave  her  a  sum  of  money  and  so  we  parted.  In  spite  of 
all  the  disappointment  and  misery  she  had  caused  me  I 
felt  a  very  keen  pang  and  could  not  repress  a  few  tears 

337 


.THE    EMIGRANT. 

wlien  I  left  her  on  the  steamer.  It  seemed  as  though  my 
heart  itself  was  being  torn  out,  and  a  sense  of  utter  deso- 
lation came  over  me.  I  felt  a  presentment  that  it  was  a 
final  separation. 

A  few  days  before  her  departure  I  had  caught  her  writ- 
ing a  letter  which  she  tried  to  hide  from  me;  but,  as  she 
was  so  soon  going,  I  made  no  comment  on  the  matter. 

I  had  wasted  fourteen  of  the  best  years  of  my  life  on  a 
base  and  worthless  woman. 


338 


CHAPTER  LXX 


CHAPTER  LXX. 

LONELINESS  AGAIN— A  TRIP  TO  SYDNEY. 

After  my  wife's  departure  I  felt  intensely  miserable  and 
lonely.  It  was,  I  think,  worse,  than  separation  by  death, 
for  where  that  alone  comes  between,  at  least  pleasant  mem- 
ories may  be  left.  With  me  the  memories  were  but  too 
painful,  and  I  felt  that  the  parting  was  a  final  one. 

There  is  no  loneliness,  I  think,  like  that  of  what  has  late- 
ly been  your  home;  but  in  which  now  there  is  no  familiar 
and  loved  presence,  though  everything  around  reminds  you 
of  it.  There  is  an  oppressive  emptiness  and  desolation 
about  the  rooms,  and  as  you  restlessly  wander  from  one  to 
another  there  seems  something  uncanny  and  nerve-racking 
about  them— a  dread  though  invisible  consciousness  or 
spirit  seems  to  haunt  them, —  you  feel  perhaps  that  some- 
thing is  watching  you  and  mocking  at  you ;  even  your  own 
footfall  jars  upon  you  and  every  little  accidental  noise 
gives  you  a  nerve-shock. 

So  unbearable  did  my  lonely  misery  become  that  after 
a  week  or  two  of  it  I  decided  to  take  a  trip  by  train  to 
Sydney  to  try  to  pull  myself  together. 

The  Sydney  train  left  Spencer  St.  Station  in  Melbourne 
at  about  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  There  was  no  train 
nor  tram  at  that  hour  from  Brunswick,  but  being  a  very 
light  sleeper  I  thought  I  could  depend  upon  waking  early 
enough  to  walk  the  distance— about  three  miles— in  time. 

So  one  morning  I  set  out  and  arrived  at  the  station  just 
in  time  to  see  the  train  well  started,  but  not  in  time  to  be 
on  board  of  it.  Next  morning  the  same  thing  happened,  so 

339 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

to  avoid  more  of  this  foolisliness  next  morning,  I  started 
the  night  before  and  slept  at  the  Melbourne  Coffee  Palace. 
This  answered  better,  for  on  this  occasion  I  caught  the 
train,  but  found  on  getting  to  the  station  that  in  my  hurry 
I  had  left  my  ring  behind— on  the  washstand,  as  I  re- 
membered. Having  caught  the  train  at  last  I  was  too  in- 
tent on  my  trip  to  let  that  go  and  take  the  risk  of  more 
disappointments  of  that  sort,  so  I  telegraphed  to  the  man- 
ager of  the  (Joffee  Palace  to  take  charge  of  the  ring  until 
my  return,  and  in  due  time  it  was  restored  to  me. 

As  far  as  Albany,  on  the  Murray,  the  journey  was  a  very 
pleasant  one.  There  we  had  to  change  carriages.  Yet,  as 
I  like  to  be  accurate  in  matters  of  fact,  we  had  come  so 
far  in  what  may  pass  muster  as  ''carriages,'.'  but  on  the 
New  South  Wales  section  in  something  that  I  hardly 
know  how  to  classify, — a  little  too  large  but  not  too  clean 
and  convenient  for  a  dog-box,  and  hardly  roomy  enough 
for  a  horse-box  or  a  cattle  truck,  and  as  it  had  primitive 
seats  and  other  passengers  besides  myself  I  suppose  it  was 
really  intended  for  human  use.  No  doubt  it  and  the  others 
like  it  were  a  cheap  job  lot,  and  thought  by  the  Sydney 
people  ' '  good  enough ' '  for  the  depraved  and  benighted  out- 
casts from  the  Southern  State  and  for  such  misguided  New 
South  "Welsh  people  as  were  unpatriotic  enough  to  visit 
that  unholy  soil.  For  you  must  know  that  these  close 
neighbors,  partly  owing  to  opposing  fiscal  policies,  and 
partly  to  natural  jealousies,  are  in  a  chronic  antagonism— 
sometimes  most  ludicrous. 

In  the  cell  I  w^as  in,  there  were  some  women  with  little 
children,  and  anybody  who  has  travelled  in  such  charming 
but  erratic  company  can  fairly  imagine  what  many  hours, 
including  a  whole  night  of  such  company  in  a  small  com- 
partment was  like.  I  don't  like  rash  resolutions  as  a  rule; 
but  I  said  to  myself,  ''Never  will  I  go  by  train  again  to 
Sydney."  In  fact,  though  its  harbor  is  undoubtedly  very 
beautiful,  as  also  some  others  of  its  surroundings  and  its 
feminine  and  other  attractions,  I  don't  think  that  on  the 
whole  I  care  to  go  there  again  at  all— unless  in  such  a  con- 

340 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


dition  that  the  conventional  hearse  would  suit  my  comfort 
as  well  as  anything  else  in  the  shape  of  a  conveyance. 

When  at  last  in  the  morning  we  jolted  into  the  really 
fine  large  station  which  was  our  destination  I  was  ''dead 
beat,"  and  it  was  not  till  I  had  effected  a  few  temporary 
repairs  to  my  badly  shaken  and  strained  anatomy  that  I 
was  able  to  painfully  totter  onto  the  platform,  and  being 
fortunately  descried  by  a  humane  member  of  some  ambu- 
lance corps  (as  it  seemed,  but  who  proved  to  be  merely  a 


r 


V 


"cabby")  I  was  driven  off  to  a  coffee  palace,  where  after 
a  shower-bath  and  a  good  breakfast  I  began  to  feel  physi- 
cally, convalescent. 

When  that  night  I  sought  my  bedchamber  I  found  that 
the  side  wall  reached  only  about  half  way  up  to  the  ceil- 
ing so  that  by  standing  on  your  bed  you  could  almost  see 
into  your  neighbor's  room— undoubtedly  a  good  idea  in  a 
hot  climate  to   secure   good   ventilation,    but   with  serious 


341 


THE     EMIGRANT. 

drawbacks  also,  as  I  discovered  the  second  night  I  was 
there. 

A  supposed  married  couple  had  taken  the  next  room, 
and  late  in  the  night  I  was  disturbed  by  what  at  first  I 
took  to  be  a  very  vigorous  curtain  lecture.  I  soon  dis- 
covered, however,  that  it  was  a  noisy  dispute  on  some  finan- 
cial question  or  other,  and  abusive  epithets  rained  fast 
and  furious  until  at  last  there  was  such  a  row  that  the  pro- 
prietor, or  manager,  appeared  on  the  scene  and  peremp- 
torily turned  the  debating  parties  out  into  the  street. 

This  is  a  discreetly  mild  statement  of  the  actual  facts. 
It  may  be  thought  that  the  place  was  not  respectable;  but 
it  was.  It  is  impossible  to  prevent  objectionable  characters 
from  obtaining  admission  to  the  best  conducted  places  of 
the  kind. 

I  remained  a  fortnight  in  Sydney  and  most  of  the  time 
managed  to  keep  out  of  the  hands  of  its  notorious  sharpers, 
but  on  the  last  day  before  leaving  I  was,  in  Australian 
vernacular,  ''taken  down"  for  £1. 

Staying  at  the  same  coffee  palace  was  a  sun-tanned, 
breezy,  hearty  fellow  of  roughly  genteel  appearance— one 
of  these  outspoken,  off-handed,  free  spending  chaps  who  do 
nearly  all  the  talking  that  can  be  heard  themselves,  and 
manage  to  produce  the  impression  that  money  is  with  them 
an  "easy  come  easy  go"  thing. 

Every  evening  he  showered  upon  all  whom  it  might  con- 
cern his  wonderful  adventures  in  New  .Guinea  and  the 
sights  he  had  seen  there  (by  his  own  account)  including 
indications  of  rich  gold  reefs  and  the  like ;  he  was  here,  he 
said,  to  orfianize  a  great  prospecting  party— and  odds  and 
ends  of  glowing  particulars  ever  and  anon  broke  from  him 
like  dazzling  sparks  from  a  fire. 

Well,  somehow  or  other  he  managed  on  that  last  evening 
of  my  stay  to  borrow  £1  from  me  (I  suppovse  he  heard  from 
someone  else  that  I  was  leaving  next  day). 

But  for  the  first  time  he  failed  to  turn  up  to  breakfast 
next  morning,  nor  could  I  lay  my  eyes  on  him  anywhere 
})efore  my  departure. 

342 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

To  lose  £1  is  no  joke,  but  it  was  not  so  much  this  I  mind- 
ed as  allowing  myself  to  be  made  such  a  fool  of,  and  I  gave 
myself  a  plain  and  emphatic  talking  to  on  the  subject. 

On  my  return  to  Melbourne  I  sold  off  my  furniture, 
went  into  lodging,  and  let  both  my  houses. 

Out  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  the  furniture  I  sent 
another  £20  to  my  wife,  through  the  Shipping  Office,  for 
her  to  draw  on  her  arrival  in  Hamburg.  You  may  wonder 
what  had  become  of  my  £800?  The  answer  needs  a  separ- 
ate chapter. 


343 


CHAPTER  LXXI 


CHAPTER  LXXI. 

UNPROFITABLE    VENTURES— LOSSES. 

Before  going  further  I  had  better  now  state  that  some 
time  previousl}^  I  had  suffered  serious  monetary  losses  in 
connection  with  mining  and  other  shares,  and  then  decided 
to  invest  some  or  all  of  what  remained  in  house  property. 

Through  an  agent  whom  I  had  commissioned  to  look 
for  something  suitable  I  soon  bought  two  new  brick  cot- 
tages in  Brunswick.  The  total  price  was  £660 ;  but  as  there 
was  a  mortgage  on  the  property  for  £400  I  only  had  to  pay 
down  £260,  and  as  the  rents  at  the  time  came  to  £1  5s.  per 
week  it  promised  to  pay  well.  But  after  a  time  a  financial 
depression  (following  "the  land  boom")  set  in  and  it  soon 
took  me  all  my  time  to  keep  things  going. 

I  had  been  in  very  bad  health  for  the  last  two  years  or 
so,  and  after  my  wife's  departure  I  consulted  a  leading 
doctor,  and  by  his  advice  underwent  an  operation,  after 
which  I  much  improved. 

It  became  necessary  to  look  around  for  some  better 
means  of  income  than  I  had  at  this  period. 

About  this  time  I  came  across  a  former  Tasmanian  ac- 
quaintance, and  after  a  little  while  he  invited  me  to  join 
him  in  opening  a  business  as  furniture  dealers,  estate 
agents,  etc.,  in  one  of  the  leading  suburbs  of  Melbourne. 
On  the  advice  of  a  friend  we  took  out  an  autioneer's  li- 
cense; but  that  spoilt  the  business  altogether,  because  the 
people  would  not  come  to  buy  goods  during  the  week,  cal- 
culating that  at  the  Saturday's  auction  they  would  get 
them  for  next  to  nothing..  ^ 

345 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Soon  seeing  that  things  were  not  at  all  satisfacory,  for 
we  were  losing  money,  I  said,  '*I  think  I  will  get  out  of 
it."  We  had  each  put  in  £50,  mine  being  borrowed  from 
a  money  lender  at  40  per  cent,  interest  on  security  of 
tram  shares  I  held.  By  friendly  arrangement  with  my 
partner  I  sold  out  my  interest  in  the  business  for  £25,  my 
partner  afterwards  buying  out  my  successor.  When  I  last 
heard  of  the  former  he  was  in  the  North  of  Queensland. 

When  I  had  settled  with  the  money  lender  I  had  only 
£5  in  money  of  all  I  had  brought  from  Tasmania,  though 
I  now  had  the  two  houses  I  had  bought;  but  they  were  at 
the  time  costing  me  more  than  I  got  out  of  them.  So  I 
was  not  in  a  very  enviable  position. 


^   346 


CHAPTER  I^XXII 


I 


CHAPTER  LXXII. 

STARTLING   REVELATIONS— THE   END   OF   MY   MARRIAGE. 

Circumstances  that  I  cannot  detail  induced  me  to  try  to 
find  out  from  the  young  lady  with  whom  my  wife  had 
stayed  during  that  visit  of  hers  to  Melbourne  while  we 
were  in  Hobart  something  about  my  wife's  doing  at  that 
time.  This  young  lady  was  now  living  with  her  parents  in 
Tasmania,  but  after  some  trouble  I  found  out  their  ad- 
dress and  wrote  to  her. 

In  reply  I  received  the  following  letter,  and  also  two 
from  my  wife  to  this  young  lady.  They  speak  for  them- 
selves. To  me  they  were  fairly  staggering  and  crushing, 
and  for  a  time  I  almost  lost  my  reason.  One  or  two  good 
friends,  however,  by  their  sympathy  and  in  other  ways 
helped  me  greatly  in  this  deep  trouble. 

South ,  March  8,  1891. 

"Dear  Friend:— As  I  know  that  your  wife  bad  treated 
you  very  badly,  which  I  know  you  did  not  deserve,  I  will 
state  to  you  the  facts  which  happened  when  she  was  on 
her  holiday  staying  with  us,  and  she  behaved  herself  as  a 
married  woman  very  badly. 

''You  most  likely  remember  that  tall  gentleman,  Mr. 
Jarvis.  He  had  made  "appointment  with  your  wife  while 
he  was  in  Hobart  to  meet  her  when  she  came  to  Melbourne, 
and  I  myself  went  with  her  to  meet  him  when  he  came 
from  Sydney  by  train,  and  he  was  so  much  infatuated  with 
her  that  he  actually  squeezed  and  kissed  her  in  the  cab 
which  drove  us  three  to  his  hotel.    Then  they  made  an  ap- 

347 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

pointment  for  the  following  day  to  drive  to  a  very  lone- 
ly wine  saloon  down  on  the  bay.  Of  course,  I  was  not 
wanted,  you  may  be  sure,  and  your  wife  told  me  the  fol- 
lowing day  that  she  had  there  a  few  glasses  of  wine  and 
afterwards  had  a  wine-fit,  and  that  Mr.  Jarvis  had  asked 
her  to  go  with  him  to  England,  and  that  his  wife  and  child 
were  in  Sydney  and  he  was  not  happy  with  them.  Then 
we  were  also  introduced  to  two  other  gentlemen-,  Beitel. 
and  Johnson,  who  used  to  patronize  your  wine  shop  later 
on.  I  suppose  you  never  heard  anything  about  them 
either.  With  them  we  have  been  out,  too,  and  afterwards 
your  wife  went  out  with  Johnson  alone,  for  whom  she  felt 
vfery  much  interested.  And  then  we  were  out  alone  one 
Sunday  evening  at  Princes  Bridge  and  there  we  met  the 
young  man  Arthur,  who  was  with  the  four  on  a  visit  at 
your  hotel  and  then  we  made  an  appointment  with  him 
and  another  friend  of  his  to  go  with  them  to  the  theatre. 
There  that  evening  happened  nothing,  but  your  wife  met 
Arthur  in  a  wine  saloon  and  then  she  told  me  that  she 
loved  him  and  said  she  could  not  help  it,  and  that  she  did 
not  care  for  you  any  longer.  Also  I  heard  here  in  Hobart 
that  a  tailor  has  said  that  he  could  clear  out  any  time  with 
Mrs.  Jager,  and  she  always  sent  her  love  to  him  through 
yo^ir  short  servant  girl  you  had  in  Hobart,  and  when  you 
were  in  Melbourne  she  often  asked  me  to  write  to  him  and 
I  refused  to  do  so,  and  all  Hobart  was  full  of  the  be- 
havior of  your  wife. 

*'l  would  not  have  told  you  all  this  if  I  had  not  found 
out  that  your  wife  had  been  slandering  me,  which  in  my 
opinion  I  do  not  deserve.  She  said  that  I  was  lazy  when  I 
was  in  your  hotel.  Of  course,  I  did  not  want  to  be  her 
servant,  as  I  know  we  would  not  long  agree  if  I  had  gone 
as  servant  with  her,  as  she  did  not  know  how  to  treat  a 
girl.  Also  when  you  had  the  hotel  she  helped  herself  out 
of  the  till  without  your  knowing  it;  and  also  when  you 
had  the  wine  shop  she  helped  herself  when  she  had  the  op- 
portunity. And  my  father  said  also  that  she  did  not  de- 
serve to  bear  your  name. 


34^ 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

''I  also  send  you  with  this,  the  letters  I  got  from  your 
wife  from  Melbourne  and  then  you  can  see  for  yourself. 
And  now  I  will  close  and  I  hope  that  you  will  let  me  know 
if  you  received  this  letter  and  you  are  quite  at  liberty  to 
send  this  letter  home  to  your  wife  if  you  like  because,  it 
is  the  truth. 

"With  best  regards  from  father,  mother  and  myself. 

"M.  RiSSSNER.'' 
1.  ^ 

'^Dear  Friend:— I  did  not  get  a  letter  from  you.  It  is 
very  hard  for  me  to  leave  Melbourne,  but  I  hope  to  be 
back  again  in  about  6  months  and  then  I  hope  I  shall  see 
you  in  Melbourne  again,  too,  so  that  I  can  t-ell  you  about 
my  trip. 

"If  you  should  come  to  Melbourne  before  me  just  write 
to  my  husband  and  he  can  give  you  a  home.  You  know 
you  are'  always  w^elcome.  If  you  meet  any  friends  there 
tell  theni  I  wish  them  all  Vgood-bye;'  and  may  God  look  af- 
ter you  as  I  hope  He  will  look  after  me. 

"Dear  Friend,  write  to  me  to  Hamburg  and  let  me  know 
how  it  goes  in  Melbourne— you  know  what  I  am  alluding 
to.  Send  my  best  wishes  to  Arthur  and  tell  him  I  have 
been  6  times  to  the  post  office  as  he  had  promised  to  send 
me  his  photo.  Now  I  will  close  with  best  wishes  from  your 
friend,  Dora. 

"P.S.  Tell  not  to  my  husband  what  I  wrote  you;  for- 
get me  not." 

Second  letter:  ^   . 

Melbourne,  17-3-91. 

"Dear  Friend:— Your  long  looked  for  letter  I  received 
and  see  that  you  are  very  happy  and  got  married  to  Mr. 

.  It  might  be  perhaps  a  long  time  before  we  shall  see 

each  other  again  as  I  go  by  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  on  the 
28th  of  March  from  here  to  Hamburg.  As  I  see  in  your 
letter  your  husband  is  very  good  to  you,  with  which  I  am 
very  pleased.    I  hope  that  I  can  come  back  in  six  months. 

"Dear  friend,  I  can  inform  you  that  I  did  not  get  a 

349 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

photo  from  Arthur  as  he  promised  me.  1  feel  very  lonely 
since  you  went  away.  We  could  agree  so  well  together, 
and  I  hope  you  will  not  forget  me  quickly. 

"I  will  write  soon  when  I  am  in  Hamburg,  how  I  got 
on.  Your  kind  regards  I  could  not  deliver  to  August  as  1 
have  not  seen  him  again ;  and  when  you  will  do  me  a  favor 
write  to  Arthur  and  tell  him  that  he  did  not  keep  his 
promise  to  send  me  his  photo,  and  wish  him  from  me  good- 
bye, (my  wife  desired  her  friend  to  write  for  her  as  she 
herself  could  not  write  a  word  of  English)  and  let  me 
know  what  you  wrote  to  him,  and  when  you  write  to  me 

address  letter  Miss ,  Post  Office,  Brunswick,  and  I 

request  you  not  to  show  anybody  this  letter.  Now  I  must 
close  with  best  wishes  to  your  father  and  mother,  with 
kisses  to  you. 

''Your  friend,  Dora  Jager." 

Then  follows  the  address  of  one  of  the  base  seoundrels 
who  came  between  me  and  my  wife: 
''Arthur  "Gray", 

%     M &  Co., 

P " 

These  letters  reveal  several  little  facts  I  could  not  con- 
veniently give  before,  and  if  their  inclusion  serves  no  bet- 
ter purpose,  they  may  afford  to  many  readers  an  interest- 
ing insight  into  one  type  at  least  of  the  feminine  mind.  I 
must  not  expend  space  in  traversing  them,  but  I  think 
most  people  will  agree  that  they  betray  an  utter  absence 
of  moral  conscience  and  shame,,  and  quite  taking  it  as  a 
matter  of  course  that  such  deceit  and  personal  liberty  are 
natural  rights  of  women.  Yet  with  all  the  open  shame- 
lessness  there  is  a  certain  warmth  of  nature  and  even  some- 
thing of  delicacy  and  a  sort  of  naive  innocence  or  sim- 
plicity. 

I  daresay  many  have  noticed  in  the  first  letter  (under 
the  circumstances)  cool  peculiarity  of  faith  expressed  in 
the  sentence,  "And  may  God  look  after  you  as  I  hope  Be 
will  look  after  me!''  Tl-uly  women  are  strange  creatures 
~a  large  proportion  of  them,  at  all  events, 


350 


i 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


I  may  as  well  get  as  quickly  as  possible  to  the  winding 
up  of  my  matrimonial  affair. 

A  few  years  passed  after  my  wife's  departure  home, 
during  which  time  I  received  one  or  two  letters  from  her 
asking  for  me  to  send  her  more  money;  but  I  had  made 
inquiries  about  her  and  learned  that  she  had  picked  up  a 
new  lover  there.  So  I  thought  he  was  the  proper  person 
for  her  to  look  to  for  support— the  privilege  went  with 
others. 

I  knew,  however,  that  she  had  expressed  a  desire  to  come 
out  again  to  Australia  with  the  family  she  had  gone  home 
with,  for  they  intended  coming  back.  I  was  not  at  all 
pleased  with  the  prospect  of  her  possible  return,  I  can 
assure  you,  and  fearing  she  might  somehow  manage  to  ac- 
complish her  desire,  I  spent  a  very  anxious  time  till  these 
friends  had  arrived. 

When  the  steamer  came  in  I  went  straight  on  board  and 
was  immensely  relieved  to  find  my  wife  had  not  come.  My 
friend  told  me  she  had  asked  him  to  advance  her  the  money 
for  the  passage  and  said  that  I  would  refund  it  on  their 
arrival ;  but  as  he  was  not  very  well  off  he  had  refused  to 
do  so. 

I  then  sent  her  a  letter  advising  her  to  get  a  divorce  and 
promising  that  I  would  not  oppose  it.  So,  a  few  years 
after,  she  took  proceedings,  and  as  I  did  not  defend  the 
case  she  obtained  the  divorce  easily  enough,*  with  costs 
against  me  amounting  to  £20;  but  I  have  not  paid  this  yet 
and  don't  think  I  am  likely  to,  as  from  my  point  of  view 
her  new  proprietor,  or  licensee,  should  bear  the  expenses  of 
the  transfer  of  such  desirable  property.  Probably  by 
this  time  she  is  tired  of  him,  too.  In  my  judgment  she 
will  he  a  flirt  and  light-of-love  to  the  end.  The  best  I  can 
think  of  her  now  is  that  she  is  a  victim  to  hereditary  taint 
and,  as  I  suppose,  cannot  overcome  it. 

But  I  do  not  think  I  am  unjust  in  saying  that  she  utter- 
ly ruined  my  life. 


351 


CHAPTER  LXXlll. 

EXPERIENCES  — ON  THE  ROAD  TO  PROSPERITY  AGAIN. 

I  come  now  to  the  period  when  my  real  prosperity  began, 
and  both  to  help  others  and  because  of  several  interesting 
incidents,  I  shall  give  the  main  points  at  such  length  as 
seems  necessary. 

My  friend  and  late  partner  had  been  selling  sewing  ma- 
chines for  the  Singer  Company,  and  making  £3  per  week 
at  the  game.  One  day  he  said,  "You  come  with  me  in  the 
morning  and  have  a  try  at  it.'' 

So  next  morning  I  mounted  in  his  trap  and  we  drove 
over  to  one  of  the  largest  of  the  suburbs  and  both  set  to 
work.  I  called  at  about  a  dozen  houses  without  the  least 
success,  and  then  told  him  I  had  had  enough,  and  went 
straight  home  again,  thinking  I  should  never  make  a  sales- 
man. Many  others  have  done  much  the  same.  It  is  ter- 
ribly discouraging  to  have  door  after  door  unceremoniously 
closed  in  your  face,  or  an  ungracious  refusal  given. 

But  about  a  fortnight  later  I  met  my  friend  again  and 
he  told  me  his  manager  wished  to  see  me  and  I  had  better 
call  on  him.  I  did,  and  the  manager  asked  me  to  give  the 
work  a  fair  trial;  he  was  sure  I  would  succeed.  I  was  en- 
gaged at  15s.  per  week  and  commission. 

Early  next  morning  I  started  with  a  will  and  grim  deter- 
mination and  worked  hard  all  day  long  from  door  to  door, 
but  not  a  chance  did  I  get.  Next  day  it  was  the  same  and 
so  on  for  nearly  a  fortnight. 

Every  evening  the  manager  put  the  question,  "Well, 

353 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

did  you  come  across  anything?"  and  as  regularly  I  had  to 
reply  ''No." 

''Never  mind,  go  at  it  again  tomorrow,"  he  would  an- 
swer. 

On  Thursday  of  the  second  week  I  came  across  an  elder- 
ly couple,  and  the  lady  said,  "I  would  like  to  have  a  look 
at  one  of  your  hand-machines,  so  when  you  are  around  this 
way  again  you  might  let  me  see  one." 

That  was  enough  for  me;  the  shock  of  hope  was  almost 
overpowering.  I  went  straight  to  the  manager  and  re- 
ported a  bite  at  last.  He  said,  "Put  the  horse  in  the  trap 
and  we'll  take  a  machine  up  straight  away."  About  an 
hour  later  it  was  sold  and  the  money  in  hand. 

I  was  quite  delighted;  I  daresay  I  felt  just  as  proud  as 
Julius  Caesar  w^hen  after  one  of  his  great  victories  he  re- 
ported, "I  came,  I  saw,  I  conquered." 

The  manager  clapped  me  on  the  back  saying,  "Well,  you 
see  it  can  be  done,  and  I  suppose  you  now  feel  able  to  sell 
another  one." 

"Yes,  I  think  I  will,"  answered  I,  with  quiet  resolution. 

The  following  morning  I  went  at  it  heart  and  soul  and 
during  the  rest  of  that  first  month  disposed  of  two  more. 

"Well,"  he  said  at  the  end  of  the  month,  "  you  are  al- 
right now,  and  as  they  are  going  to  send  me  up  to  Benalla 
to  manage  the  Northeastern  District,  I  will  take  you  Avith 
me."  I  was  pleased  at  that  as  I  had  never  been  up  coun- 
try for  any  length  of  time  and  was  glad  of  the  change. 
My  salary  also  was  raised  to  £2  10s.  per  week  and  com- 
mission. 

I  take  the  opportunity  of  saying  here  that  I  feel  I  am 
deeply  indebted  to  this  manager  for  his  encouragement  and 
help,  and  that  to  this  is  largely  due  my  subsequent  suc- 
cesses and  my  being  now  in  a  position  to  live  in  comfort, 
ease,  and  independence— all  built  up  from  selling  sewing- 
machines. 

I  was  very  successful  in  Benalla,  selling  three  machines 
the  first  week.  Then  the  manager  took  me  to  another 
country  township  named  Yea  where  I  had  to  take  over  the 

354 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

horse  and  trap  from  the  former  traveller,  who  had  not 
done-  enough  business.  The  first  afternoon  I  sold  a  ma- 
chine for  cash  to  the  editor  of  the  local  paper.  I  only  give 
these  one  or  two  instances  to  show  my  rapidly  increasing 
success. 

After  this,  with  the  aid  of  the  horse  and  trap,  I  jour- 
neyed far  and  wide  over  mountain,  plain,  creek,  and 
through  "bush"  in  God's  beautiful  country.  It  was  all  a 
novelty  to  me  and  I  thoroughly  revelled  in  the  life— it  was 
glorious,  and  now  and  again  had  a  spice  of  adventure 
thrown  in  as  you  will  see. 

My  horse  and  I  became  fast  friends.  Never  before  in 
my  life  had  I  had  anything  to  do  with  a  horse.  The  other 
traveller  had  treated  this  poor  brute  with  great  cruelty, 
often  kicking  him  in  the  stomach,  and  even  getting  too 
lazy  to  get  up  early  enough  to  feed  her  in  the  morning;  he 
would  drive  off  with  an  empty  horse. 

She  appreciated  the  kind  treatment  she  received  from  me 
and  in  one  month  had  improved  so  much  that  the  man- 
ager hardly  knew  her  again.  She  used  to  follow  me  with- 
out a  halter  like  a  dog.  Even  when  put  into  a  paddock 
for  a  day  or  two  with  a  mob  of  other  horses,  if  I  wanted 
her  all  I  had  to  do  was- to  go  in  the  gate  and  clap  my 
hands.  At  this  signal  she  would  always  come  up  and  fol- 
low me  to  the  stable. 

M ISAD  VENTURES. 

Goods  of  any  description  sold  on  time  payment  easily 
lapse  into  habits  of  irreclaimable  vagrancy — here  to-day 
and  gone  to-morrow. 

One  day  I  received  a  letter  from  my  manager  instruct- 
ing me  to  try  to  get  on  the  trail  of  and  to  seize  two  ma- 
chines that  had  been  lost  for  about  eight  years.  He  said 
that  several  travellers  had  made  the  attempt  without  suc- 
cess. The  machines  had  eluded  all  pursuit,  but  were  sup- 
posed to  be  somewhere,  around  a  certain  old  deserted  min- 
ing township.  He  promised  me  £1  for  each  if  I  could  get 
them, 

355 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

After  a  whole  day's  travelling  I  reached  the  township 
and  put  up  there  for  the  night.  In  the  morning,  having 
got  my  bearings,  I  started  as  I  though  for  the  supposed 
place. 

I  came  to  a  farm  house  and  asked  the  farmer  if  he  could 
direct  me  to  Mrs. 's. 

He  had  a  war-worn  pipe  in  his  mouth,  a  knife  and  to- 
bacco in  his  hands,  and  apparently  nothing  to  do  but  take 
things  easy. 

"Yes,  he  could,  but  it  was  a  long  way  olf  in  the  back 
blocks"  (I  thought  to  myself  I  was  in  the  back  blocks  al- 
ready). "Travel  along  this  track  for  about  four  miles, 
then  turn  off  to  the  right,  then  after  so  many  more  miles 
take  a  branch  track  to  the  left  over  a  creek,  etc." 

Oft'  I  went,  the  trap  bumping  ove!"  roots  and  stumps  and 
ruts,  here  and  there  disturbing  a  large  lizard  or  a  snake 
until  I  came  to  about  five  diverging  and  winding  tracks 
each  leading  apparently  to  the  edge  of  the  Avorld.  Two  or 
three  seemed  to  trend  more  or  less  to  the  right.  Here  was 
a  puzzle,  but  no  help  out  of  it;  so  after  a  careful  survey 
I  chose  one  and  went  ahead. 

The  mid-day  sun  was  blazing  down  overhead;  and  my 
hands  were  scorched  with  the  heat ;  and  my  mare  was  tired 
and  covered  with  sweat  and  dust ;  so  I  pulled  up  under  the 
shade  of  a  tree,  gave  my  horse  some  feed,  and  sat  down  to 
eat  my  own  lunch. 

Since  leaving  the  farm  I  had  not  seen  a  house  or  a  hu- 
man being  all  the  time;  but,  as  luck  would  have  it,  a  milk 
cart  came  along  now,  and  I  asked  the  driver  if  he  could 
sell  me  8d.  worth  of  milk  and  direct  me  to  Mrs. . 

He  said  he  did  not  know^  Mrs but  would  sell  me 

the  milk,  so  he  put  some  in  my  billycan  while  I  was  attend- 
ing to  the  horse  for  a  moment  or  so,  and  therefore  did  not 
keep  an  eye  on  the  milk  contract.  But  I  was  thinking 
how  I  should  enjoy  it  in  a  minute. 

When  I  came  to  take  it  up  to  drink  I  found  it  thin,  pale 
blue  stuff,  not  at  all  pleasant  to  look  at.  The  beggar  had 
come  from  the  creamery,  and  had  sold  me  skimmed  milk! 

356 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Of  course  he  was  well  out  of  sight  by  this  time,  and  I  sup- 
pose laughing  at  his  trick  upon  a  foreigner. 

After  lunch  I  set  off  again  on  my  exploring  expedition 
and  kept  my  horse  trotting  on  till  close  upon  sunset,  never 
seeing  a  person  anywhere.  At  last  I  was  rejoiced  to  see  a 
roof  peeping  through  the  trees;  but  as  I  came  nearer  I 
thought  it  looked  rather  familiar,  and  when  I  drew  up  to 
the  gate  I  saw  that  is  was  the  same  house  that  I  had  started 
from  in  the  morning !  I  had  of  course,  been  traveling  in 
a  circle  all  day— and  coming  back  from  another  direction. 

The  farmer  asked,  ''Well,  did  you  find  it?"  I  could 
only  say  no  and  explain  why,  and  he  enjoyed  a  laugh  that 
threatened  to  clear  his  land  of  trees  as  the  walls  of  Jericho 
fell  before  the  blast  of  the  Israelitish  trumpets.  However, 
he  gave  me  a  good  tea  and  shelter  for  the  night. 

I  made  a  fresh  start  in  the  morning,  this  time  with  bet- 
ter success.  As  I  drove  up  to  the  place,  a  big  Irishwoman 
came  to  the  door;  and  as  soon  as  she  saw  the  name 
"Singer"  on  the  trap  she  emptied  on  me  the  pent-up  elo- 
quence of  years  of  solitude  and  generations  of  the  Irish 
race. 

I  like  the  Irish  and  always  got  on  well  with  them,  as,  in 
fact,  I  flatter  myself  I  do  with  most  people. 

But  this  stalwart  daughter  of  Erin  for  a  long  time  gave 
me  no  chance  of  speech,  but  tongue-thrashed  me  right  and 
left,  her  main  grievance  being  that  some  previous  travel- 
ler, in  order  to  induce  her  to  buy  a  machine,  had  promised 
to  send  an  instructress  up  from  Melbourne  (not  far  from 
200  miles  away!)  to  show  her  how  to  use  the  accessories 
and  no  one  had  come. 

When  I  inquired  whether  she  knew  anything  about  the 
other  machine,  she  said  she  had  not  got  it  and  went  off  at 
full  speed  once  more. 

Now  this  other  machine  had  been  sold  to  her  daughter 
eight  years  before ;  but  she  had  died  without  paying  for  it, 
and  we  had  an  inkling  that  it  was  now  in  her  mother's  pos^ 
session. 

As  soon  as  she  slackened  off  a  bit  I  said,  "Now,  Mrs. 

357 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

let  me  have  a  say;  I  am  a  stranger  to  you  and 

have  not  done  you  any  harm,  have  IT' 

"No,"  she  replied. 

'^Well,  I  am  paid  to  do  my  duties  and  you  might  just 
as  well  be  civil  to  me." 

She  cooled  down,  and  then  I  went  on,  "I  will  make  a  bar- 
gain with  you;  I  will  give  you  a  good  lesson  on  your  new 
machine  and  you  hand  me  over  the  old  one. ' '  This  she  agreed 
and  then  fried  a  few  pancakes  and  gave  me  a  good  meal. 

We  parted  good  friends  and  I  had  an  invitation  to  call 
again  if  ever  I  came  that  way;  that  will  never  be  now,  1 
suppose. 

The  other  machine  I  picked  up  without  much  trouble, 
but  I  was  very  glad -when  I  saw  the  first  light  in  Seymour 
again,  as  it  had  got  pitch  dark  long  before  I  reached  that 
township  and  my  horse  and  I  had  to  feel  our  way  as 
best  we  could,  which  is  a  very  trying  experience  in  the 
Australian  bush— what  with  logs,  stumps  and  holes  below, 
and  dangerous  branches  threatening  one's  face.  Some- 
times the  trap  was  all  but  over. 


358 


CHAPTER  LXXIV 


CHAPTEE  LXXIY. 

A    PERILOUS    ADVENTURE,    AND    MY    FIRST    HORSE    DEAL.    - 

On  one  occasion  I  nearly  lost  my  life.  I  wa,s  traveling 
from  Averel  to  Gobar  (another  deserted  mining  township) 
for  my  cheque  then  due  to  me,  and  it  was  expected  I  would 
be  there  by  that  time;  but  I  was  a  few  days  behind. 

It  was  getting  close  to  Christman  and  naturally  I  want- 
ed that  money.  The  distance  I  had  to  go  was  forty  miles, 
so  I  started  early  in  the  morning.  When  I  had  gone  near- 
ly twenty  miles  the  place  began  to  look  uncommonly 
'^ bushy"  and  for  a  long  time  I  could  not  see  a  house  or  a 
living  soul. 

Finally  a  house  did  come  in  sight,  but  as  I  neared  it  I 
found  it  was  a  deserted  farm.  1  went  on  about  eight  miles 
further  and  came  to  another.  Then  the  track  disappeared 
altogether  and  I  came  to  a  grassy  slope  about  twenty  yards 
broad.  When  I  was  on  it  the  brake  was  of  little  use,  as 
the  wheels  skidded  on  the  hard  slippery  turf,  and  the  horse 
and  trap  with  me  in  the  latter  were  sliding  down  towards, 
as  I  could  now  see,  a  steep  precipice  about  fifty  feet  deep. 
I  tried  to  pull  the  horse  around,  but  she  had  seen  the  dan- 
ger as  well  as  I,  and  she  then  at  once  lay  down  and  so  pre- 
vented further  slipping,  and  thus  saved  both  of  us  from 
destruction ;  for  even  had  we  not  been  instantly  killed  by 
the  fall  we  must  have  been  badly  injured,  and  I  afterwards 
found  that  it  was  such  an  out  of  the  way  place  that  it  was 
not  in  the  least  likely  we  should  have  been  discovered.  I  think 
this  action  of  my  horse  was  a  remarkable  instance  of  ani- 
mal sagacity  and  presence  of  mind.    But  Australian  horses 

359 


THE    EMIGRANT.^ 

are  very  intelligent,  and  I  have  heard  of  many  instances 
of  their  power  of  thought  and  of  cleverness. 

I  got  out  of  the  trap  and  blocked  the  wheels  with  stones, 
then  unharnessed  the  mare,  got  her  up  and  tied  her  to  a 
tree  and  gave  her  some  feed. 

"then  I  considered  my  situation  and  the  surroundings, 
with  a  view  to  getting  out  of  them.  From  the  slope  I  was 
on  I  could  see  far  below  a  wide  expanse  of  dense  bush 
stretching  away  for  many  miles,  and  at  first  there  appeared 
no  sign  of  human  habitation.  But  after  a  careful  survey, 
away  in  the  distance  I  caught  sight  of  a  roof  just  showing 
between  the  trees.  This  appeared  to  present  the  only  chance 
of  relief,  so  I  scrambled  down  the  deep  ruts  the  rain  had 
made  on  the  hill  and  precipice  and  after  a  long  walk  reach- 
ed the  house  and  was  well  received  and  given  a  good  dinner. 

When  I  told  the  plight  I  was  in  and  where  the  mishaps 
had  occurred  the  selector  informed  me  that  they  called  the 
place  ''The  Devil's  Hill"  and  remarked  "It  is  a  wonder 
you  did  not  get  your  neck  broken. ' '  He  sent  a  man  with  a 
rope  back  with  me.  The  climb  up  the  hill  was  a  stiff  and 
toilsome  one,  but  at  last  it  was  accomplished.  Then  we 
turned  the  trap  round  so  that  it  faced  up  hill,  and  placed 
large  stones  behind  the  wheels;  then  got  the  horse  in  the 
shafts  again  and  cautiously  went  ahead,  one  leading  the 
mare  and  the  other  ready  to  block  the  wheel  again  if  neces- 
sary. I  was  immensely  relieved  and  thankful  when  we  were 
fairly  on  top  of  that  dangerous  slope  once  more. 

The  man  told  me  I  was  twelve  miles  off  the  road.  Through 
this  mistake  and  the  loss  of  time  resulting  it  was  Christmas 
Day  when  I  reached  Gobar  instead  of  the  day  before,  as  I 
had  intended. 

The  postmaster  was  at  first  not  unnaturally  disinclined 
to  break  the  sanctity  of  his  holiday  by  handing  me  my  mail, 
but  when  I  had  explained  the  circumstances,  and  duly  hum- 
bled myself  by  apologies,  he  took  pity  on  my  forlorn  state 
and  obliged  me.  Then  I  made  my  way  down  to  Melbourne 
to  make  the  best  of  what  was  left  of  Christmas. 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

MY  FIRST  HORSE  DEAL. 

This  ought  in  one  way  to  have  been  narrated  before  tho 
last  incident,  as  it  happened  about  two  weeks  before  that. 
But  it  does  not  matter. 

I  was  traveling  along  the  Sydney  road,  not  far  from  Tal- 
larook  when  I  met  a  swagman  on  horseback,  who  made  a 
sign  with  his  hands  and  by  pulling  up  that  he  wished  to 
speak  to  me. 

I  must  explain,  that  a  swagman  on  horseback  is  not  an 
everyday  sight.  Most  swagmen  tramp  about  the  country  on 
foot.  They  carry,  slung  over  one  shoulder,  a  tightly  rolled 
up  blue-grey  blanket  the  two  ends  of  which  are  fastened  to- 
gether in  the  style  of  a  horse  collar.  They  also  carry  a  billy- 
can  and  other  small  sundries.  Such  as  ride  are  usually 
shearers,  farm  hands,  or  other  fairly  well-to-do  working  men. 
This  one  pulled  up  his  mount  from  a  smart  canter  by  throw- 
ing his  body  well  back  and  his  feet  well  forward,  thus  forc- 
ing up  the  horse's  head  and  neck  in  a  proud  and  spirited 
attitude,  and  causing  the  animal  to  champ  its  bit  and  dis- 
play a  little  restlessness,  so  producing  the  impression  that 
he  was  a  fine  spirited  "goer."  Keeping  up  a  little  by-play 
of  this  kind  by  means  of  rein  and  spur  and  an  occasional 
"Way,"  or  "D— n  you,"  and  so  on,  the  rider  half  turned 
in  his  saddle  and  resting  one  hand  on  the  hind  quarters  of 
his  steed,  after  exchanging  greetings  with  me,  and  one  or 
two  general  remarks,  he  asked  if  I  would  like  to  buy  the 
horse  he  was  riding.  We  had,  by  the  way,  commented  a  lit- 
tle on  our  respective  horses. 

The  swagman  explained  that  he  was  hard  up  and  that  the 
horse  was  l3roken  in  for  both  saddle  and  harness.  It  was  a 
very  fair  looking  one,  a  nice  dark  brown,  and  in  very  good 
condition.  I  was  intending  then  to  go  to  Melbourne  for 
Christmas  and  was  half  thinking  of  riding  down ;  so,  being 
favorably  impressed  with  the  horse  and  the  price  asked,  I 
said  that  if  he  liked  to  call  upon  me  in  Seymour  in  a  few 
days  I  would  then  see  about  it.  He  agreed  to  this  and  ] 
recommended  him  to  the  railway  hotel,  where  I  was  myself 
staying. 

When  I  landed  there  a  few  days  later  I  found  the  swag- 


I 


361 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

man  and  the  horse  there,  but  the  latter  had  changed  hands, 
for  the  groom  at  the  hotel  had  bought  it  in  the  hope  of  mak- 
ing a  few  shillings  by  re-selling  it  to  me.  He  offered  it  for 
£3  10s.  I  agreed  to  buy  subject  to  a  trial,  but  did  not  pay 
at  the  time;  it  was  fortunate  I  did  not. 

I  had  stipulated  to  ride  him  to  Avenel,  eleven  miles  away. 
The  swagman  proposed  that  he  should  go  with  me,  he  to 
ride  my  mare  and  I  the  horse  he  had  owned. 

So  I  mounted  the  courser  that  had  seemed  so  full  of  spirit 
and  ''go"  when  I  had  first  seen  him.  I  must  admit  that  I 
half  feared  he  would  either  bolt  or  do  his  best  to  "buck" 
me  off.  Not  a  bit  of  it ;  he  simply  tossed  his  head  and 
swished  his  tail.  I  touched  him  with  the  spurs;  he  gave  a 
sort  of  grunt  of  contempt  and  a  toss  of  the  head.  I  kicked 
both  heels  into  him ;  not  a  move.  I  hit  him  with  my  whip ; 
still  he  wasn't  .ready  to  go.  I  hit  again,  1  spurred,  I  shook 
the  reins,  I  made  horse  language  with  my  mouth;  all  to  no 
purpose— not  an  inch  would  he  move— he  seemed  to  be  un- 
der the  impression  that  he  was  on  duty  as  a  stone  statue,  or 
had  to  keep  still  to  get  his  photo  taken.  He  was  the  most 
immovable  horse  I  had  ever  seen  .  I  daresay  he  had  formed 
some  uncomplimentary  opinion  about  me  as  a  rider. 

The  bargain  began  to  look  very  unsatisfactory,  to  the 
groom  as  well  as  myself  I  suppose. 

Then  the  painful  suspense  was  broken  by  the  swagman 
saying,  "Here,  I'll  ride  him;  I'll  show  you  how  he  can  go." 

So  we  changed  mounts  and  oft'  he  went  right  enough,  I 
following  on  my  mare.  We  cantered  along  until  we  were 
on  the  Sydney  road.  Then  the  swagman  said,  "Nov/  I'll 
show  you  how  he  can  go,"  and  leaning  forward  and  giving 
a  vicious  dig  with  his  heels  into  his  horse's  side  it  gave  a 
sudden  bound  and  flew  away  at  full  gallop  with  my  mare 
following  as  well  as  she  could. 

That  horse  could  certainly  go  when  he  wanted,  or  was 
made  to  do  so.  He  went  as  if  this  was  the  sole  joy  of  his 
life  and  as  though  he  would  never  stop  again,  and  my  mare 
gamely  strove  to  overtake  him. 

Presently  I  saw  a  small  creek  a  little  distance  ahead  and 

362 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

as  we  neared  it  1  noticed  that  there  was  scarcely  any  water 
in  it,  but  plenty  of  slimy  black  mud — like  many  creeks  it 
was  drying  up  for  the  summer. 

Down  the  road  my  companion's  horse  raced  at  still  full 
speed  and  I  expected  to  see  him  jump  the  muddy  bottom  in 
one  great  bound.  Next  instant  he  had  suddenly  ''propped" 
on  the  very  edge,  and  I  saw  the  swagman  sent  flying  head 
first  over  his  horse's  head  right  into  the  mass  of  soft  black 


oozy  mud.  He  landed  in  it  fair  on  his  face,  and  as  it  was 
very  soft  he  sank  right  into  it  as  if  he  were  diving  into 
water.  Had  it  been  hard  he  would  almost  certainly  have 
broken  his  neck.  As  it  was  he  picked  himself  up  quickly, 
and  spitting,  sputtering,  blowing,  and  swearing  he  scram- 
bled out.  You  can  better  imagine  how  he  looked  than  I 
could  shortly  describe.. 


363 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

The  first  shock  of  alarm  over,  I  could  not  help  bursting 
into  such  a  fit  of  laughter  as  I  think  I  never  had  had  be- 
fore—I fairly  shook  and  ached  with  it,  as  he  tried  to  clean 
himself,  I  helping— he  was  such  an  object ;  first  like  a  negro 
dissolving  away  into  sooty  blacking;  then  as  he  in  a  hurry 
scraped  away  with  his  hands  clearings  on  his  face  and  else- 
where and  the  original  surface  began  to  show  he  became  a 
striking  piebald ;  then  in  an  improved  stage  something  like 
a  ship's  stoker  or  an  engineer  after  a  spell  of  hard  work. 
And  all  the  time  he  was  expressing  his  feelings  and  opin- 
ions (mostly  about  the  horse  for  playing  such  a  trick,  and 
myself  for  laughing  more  than  helping),  in  the  most  im- 
pressive English  he  could  remember.  Finally  he  rinsed 
himself  in  the  little  water  that  was  available  and  I  gave 
him  a  brush  down  with  tussock  grass,  and  we  continued  our 
journey. 

He  was  full  of  excuses  for  the  horse  and  of  explanation 
how  the  thing  happened.  "All  horses  were  liable  to  prop 
now  and  then— but  this  one  had  never  done  so  before,"  and 
he  had  ridden  him  more  miles  than  I  have  room  to  remem- 
ber—he ought  to  have  been  ready  for  such  a  prop,  but  he 
felt  sure  the  horse  was  going  to  make  the  jump— he  had 
jumped  creeks  twice  as  wide— so  he  had  leaned  forward  a 
bit  just  as  the  horse  stopped  and  then  he  had  to  go"  and 
so  on. 

When  we  got  to  Avenel  we  put  our  horses  in  the  stable 
at  the  hotel  I  stayed  at.  As  we  were  doing  this  the  swag- 
man  said,  * '  Whatever  you  do,  don 't  put  a  halter  on  him ; 
he  can't  stand  that,"  then  shaking  hands  he  went  off  to 
catch  the  train  back  and  that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him. 

The  horse  seemed  to  stand  alright  in  his  loose  box  all  the 
afternoon— he  looked  a  quiet  well-behaved  beast  enough.  But 
as  in  the  evening  there  were  a  lot  of  strange  horses  in  the 
different  stalls,  it  seemed  rather  risky  to  let  him  stand  there 
without  being  tied  up,  so  I  slipped  a  halter  over  his  head 
and  made  it  fast  to  the  crib.  No  sooner  done  than  he  sud- 
denly backed,  snorted,  lashed  out  with  his  feet,  and  pulled 
and  wrenched  at  the  halter  in  such  a  way  that  I  thought 
the  whole  stable  was  coming  down. 

364 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

I  had  not,  however,  waited  quietly  during  all  this  per- 
formance. For  a  moment  I  tried  to  soothe  and  steady  him, 
but  it  was  not  of  the  slightest  use;  he  only  became  down- 
right frantic,  and  then  I  got  over  the  partition  too  quickly 


to  remember  or  explain  how  I  managed  it.  To  this  day, 
however,  I  feel  quite  proud  of  the  miraculous  agility  I 
showed.  With  much  trouble  I  managed  to  get  the  halter  off 
again ;  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  kept  on  the  safer  side  of  the 
partition  to  do  it,  and  had  to  use  much  strategy  and  finesse 


365 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

to  succeed.    He  then  seemed  to  be  satisfied,  and  I  left  him 
loose  for  the  night  with  his  feed. 

I  spent  a  rather  anxious  night,  dreading  catastrophes 
and  possible  claims  for  damages,  and  arose  early  to  go  and 
have  a  look  at  my  fiery  servant.  I  found  him  quiet  enough, 
with  his  head  in  the  feed  box  patiently  and  slowly  chewing 
away  at  his  la^t  night 's  supper,  which  was  only  a  little  more 
than  half  gone.  This  seemed  very  peculiar,  as  also  was  his 
style  of  chewing,  so  I  made  cautious  investigations  and  dis- 
covered—that he  had  no  teeth !  This  was  a  queer  horse  I 
had  bought!  But  I  was  not  quite  in  despair;  I  thought  1 
would  try  him  in  harness. 

With  every  precaution  against  active  rebellion,  I  got  the 
harness  on,  he  every  now  and  then  looking  round  at  the 
operation  and  once  or  twice  making  threatening  demonstra- 
tions ;  but  nothing  serious  occurred.  Then  I  put  him  in  the 
trap— with  a  kicking  strap  for  better  security.  So  far  all 
was  well,  but  I  had  an  uneasj^  suspicion  that  he  had  "some- 
thing up  his  sleeve,"  so  to  speak— some  outrageous  piece  of 
deviltry  that  he  was  patiently  saving  so  as  to  break  out  with 
it  to  the  best  effect.  So  I  got  the  groom  to  hold  his  head 
while  I  mounted  to  my  seat ;  then,  gathering  the  reins  firm- 
ly in  my  hand,  I  rather  apprehensively  got  up.  So  did  his 
nose— it  pointed  well  up  towards  some  invisible  star  in  the 
sky.  I  took  a  rein  in  each  hand  and  flapped  one  of  them 
on  his  back ;  he  jerked  his  head  back  and  marked  time  with 
his  hind  feet— nothing  more.  I  touched  him  with  the  whip ; 
he  shook  his  head  and  made  as  though  to  kick  out  behind.  I 
gave  him  a  savage  cut  under  the  stomach;  he  jerked  and 
writhed  and  slightly  backed.  I  belabored  him  with  a  shower 
of  blows;  he  reared  as  if  he  were  going  to  jump  out  of  sight 
then  he  changed  his  mind  and  made  as  if  to  sit  down.  T 
tried  all  I  knew,  but  I  could  not  get  him  to  budge  an  inch 
forward. 

At  lasl  one  of  a  few  farmers  standing  by  said,  "Wait  a 
bit,  I'll  put  my  horse  in  front  of  him  and  we'll  see  how  he 
likes  that. ' '  It  was  done ;  but  it  was  of  no  use,  for  my  part 
of  the  team  simply  threw  himself  down.  I  didn't  try  fur- 
ther experiments,  but  took  him  out  and  put  him  in  a  pad- 

366 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

dock— to  laugh  or  do  anything  else  he  liked.    Then  I  went 
about  my  business  with  my  good  mare. 

A  week  afterwards  a  lawyer's  letter  in  the  usual  ''stand 
and  deliver"  style  came  to  hand,  demanding  either  the  pur- 
chase money  for  that  horse  or  the  return  of  the  horse  itself, 
and  alternatively  threatening  legal  proce«3dings.  I  have  lit- 
tle doubt  the  swagman  had  reported  to  the  groom  that  I  was 
not  likely  to  take  the  horse  at  all  unless  ho  bustled  me  about 
it.  However,  that  was  what  I  had  been  waiting  for,  having 
acquired  some  little  insight  as  a  business  traveller  into  the 
workings  of  British  law.  So,  with  the  help  of  another 
man  chasing  that  brute  for  a  good  three  hours  in  order  to 
catch  him — for  he  was  with  a  mob  of  about  twenty  others 
and  they  led  us  a  merry  dance  before  we  cornered  him— I 
rode  him  back  to  Seymour  and  handed  him  over,  and  I  was 
very  glad  indeed  to  get  out  of  that  transaction  so  easily. 
He  was  no  doubt  a  talented  animal,  but  T  did  not  want  that 
sort. 


367 


CHAPTER  LXXV 


CHAPTER  LXXV. 


During  one  of  my  country  trips  I  came  to  a  township 
famous  in  connection  with  the  "Kelly  Gang"  of  bush- 
rangers. On'  inquiring  at  one  of  the  hotels  what  their 
charges  were,  I  was  told  they  were  6s.  per  day.  I  thought 
that  too  much  for  a  poor  sewing  machine  traveller,  so  I  re- 
marked sadly  that  I  regretted  I  had  no  bank  with  me  and 
would  have  to  try  the  other  hotel.  With  true  Australian  in- 
dependence the  hotel  keeper  said  with  an  air  of  indifference 
and  a  smile,  "You'll  soon  get  full  up  there."  I  did  not 
know  what  he  meant,  but  was  not  very  long  in  finding  out. 

The  other  hotel  keeper  seemed  a  very  nice  fellow,  and  his 
charges  were  more  moderate.  He  lit  a  fire  in  the  parlor  for 
me  to  sit  at  and  dry  my  clothes,  which  were  wet  through. 
I  had  no  change  of  clothing  with  me.  A  little  later  I  saw 
him  going  out. 

Presently  his  wife  came  in  to  lay  the  table  for  dinner,  I 
had  my  face  to  the  fire  and  did  not  look  round.  When  I 
toolv  my  seat  at  the  table  I  found  I  was  the  only  guest,  and 
the  landlady  brought  me  a  plate  supposed  to  contain  fish  and 
vegetables ;  but  I  found  nothing  but  some  cabbage,  one  lone- 
ly potato,  and  two  fish-tails !  So  far  I  had  not  noticed  the 
woman,  but  having  stared  in  siirprise  at  the  visible  paYt  of 
the  fish  I  looked  up  at  her,  half  expecting  some  joke— I  saw 
a  rather  fine  looking  woman— but  blind  drunk.  She  had 
evidently  meant  to  bring  fish,  but  somehow  they  had  got 
away  from  their  tails  and  she  had  not  noticed  their  absence ! 
I  quietly  ate  the  vegetables  and  said  nothing  just  then. . 

369 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

A  little  later  I  heard  a  peculiar  noise  in  the  bar  close  by, 
seemingly  behind  the  counter.  There  being  a  small  window 
between,  I  looked  through  it  and  saw  the  landlady  stealthily 
crawling  on  all  fours  to  the  tap  of  the  beer  barrel  and  help 
herself  to  glass  after  glass.  When  her  husband  came  home 
and  asked  me  about  my  dinner  I  told  him  what  I  had  had. 
He  apologised  for  that  and  his  wife's  condition  and  added, 
"That  is  the  curse  of  my  life;  as  soon  as  I  leave  the  house 
my  wife  gets  blind  drunk. ' '  It  was  a  sad  pity,  especially  as 
he  had  four  nice  little  children.  But  I  took  myself  off  that 
afternoon  to  the  other  place  again. 

A   CHAMPION  SALESMAN— AN  AUSTRALIAN  '^SAM   SLICK.'' 

I  had  done  exceedingly  well  for  my  firm,  far  better  than 
my  predecessor,  but  they  served  me  an  unfair  trick,  a  trick 
that  seems  to  be  pretty  often  played  upon  such  agents  by 
the  firms  they  represent.  The  head  local  office  of  the  firm 
sends  the  champion  salesman  into  a  district  that  is  showing 
good  business,  and  thereby  spoils  it  for  the  proper  local 
traveller  for  a  good  while  to  follow.  The  plan  keeps  the 
crack  salesman  going  profitably  to  himself,  and  of  course  i 
is  a  plan  that  turns  in  plenty  of  business  to  the  company; 
but  it  ruins  the  local  agent's  chances  and  keeps  his  earnings 
down  unfairly— it  is  hardly  good  faith.  Moreover,  the 
"crack's"  results  are  held  up  as  a  standard  and  enticement 
for  new  employes— and  they  are  sent  to  glean  in  the  field  he- 
has  reaped  bare. 

The  company  referred  to  is  a  great  and  good  one,  its  ma- 
chines, etc.,  of  the  highest  possible  degree  of  perfection,  and 
probably  it  is  not  directly  responsible  for  what  I  complain 
of ;  that  is  no  doubt  due  to  the  exigencies  of  local  manage- 
ment and  excessive  competition  in  all  business  of  this  kind. 

As  I  drove  into  the  yard  of  an  hotel  in  Kilmore  one  day 
a  man  of  gentlemanly  appearance  and  flirting  daintily  with 
a  cigar  was  standing  at  the  gate.  He  nodded  affably  and 
remarked,  "Oh,  travelling  for  the  Singer?"  Of  course  he 
saw  the  name  on  the  trap. 

"Yes,"  said  I. 

370 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

"So  am  I ;  my  name  is  Chester— I  suppose  you  have  heard 
of  me." 

I  certainly  iiad  heard  of  him— not  a  little  either — for  he 
was  a  great  celebrity  in  the  company — his  fame  spread  far 
and  wide,  and  anecdotes  of  his  prowess  and  penius  (and. 
other  things)  meandered  to  the  remotest  confines  of  Vic- 
torian civilization — wherever,  in  fact,  a  Singer  agent  went ; 
for  he  was  a  marvel  at  getting  rid  of  machines,  a  demi-god 
(from  a  business  point  of  view),  and  mythology  was  sup- 
plementing actual  history  in  connection  with  his  name.  But 
it  would  not  be  wise,  perhaps,  for  me  to  contribute  my  priv- 
ate testimony  in  plain  words  about  him ;  it  might  not  seem 
strictly  complimentary ;  I  have  too  many  scruples  in  the 
matter— perhaps  some  of  those  he  was  continually  throw- 
ing away. 

I  was  not  at  all  too  pleased  at  his  presence.  I  wilted  and 
felt  half  inclined  to  throw  up  the  sponge  then  and  there; 
but  my  ingrained  tenacity  of  purpose  rebelled  against  this, 
so  I  stood  my  ground. 

In  answer  to  his  last  question,  I  said,  "Yes,  I  had  heard 
of  him,"  and  as  we  had  to  stay  together  in  the  same  hotel 
I  treated  him  with  proper  civility.  I  give  a  few  samples  of 
his  methods  and  transactions,  believing  they  will  amuse. 

I  once  asked  him  to  give  me  a  leaf  out  of  his  book. 

'  *  Do  you  carry  two  handkerchiefs  with  you  ? ' '  said  he. 

"No,"  said  I,  wondering  what  on  earth  handkerchiefs 
had  to  do  with  selling  machines. 

'  *  Well,  you  ought  to,  and  when  you  see  a  child  coming  to 
the  door  with  a  dirty  nose,  and  nearly  all  youngsters  have 
dirty  noses,  you  take  the  handkerchief  you  carry  for  that 
purpose  and  tenderly  wipe  that  nose ;  that  goes  right  to  the 
mother's  heart  and  she  will  listen  to  all  you  have  to  say,  and 
you  pay  her  compliments  and  stay  and  talk  until  you  sell 
your  machine. ' '  I  may  say  that  I  did  not  take  this  advice. 
I  never  tried  it  then  or  afterwards ;  but  I  have  little  doubt 
there  is  a  great  deal  in  the  point,  especially  if  viewed  as 
merely  a  single  illustration  of  a  universal     principle — a 


371 


THE     EMIGRANT. 

principle  that  can  be  put  into  paying  practice  in  a  myriad 
ways.    Chester  no  doubt  meant  it  thus. 

He  was  always  faultlessly  dressed — unless  in  having  an 
excess  of  jewellery,— rings,  watch  chain,  scarf-pin,  and 
pocket  knick-knacks, — as  a  silver  cigar-case  for  use  in  deal- 
ing with  men,  gold  fountain  pen,  and  so  on. 

He  was  good  company  and  once  inside  a  house  the  people 
were  seldom  willing  for  him  to  leave  in  much  of  a  hurry. 
His  numerous  yarns  had  great  attraction  in  the 
country— as  also  were  his  flirtations — these  were  very 
popular  and  numerous— then  he  sang  well,  played 
draughts  or  cards;  talked  politics  with  the  elder  men;  re- 
ligion and  gossop  with  the  elder  women;  plays,  poetry, 
music,  fashion  and  foolishness  with  the  younger  ones.  No 
wonder  he  was  a  success— too  successful  in  some  things  for 
other  people's  happiness,  for  he  was  liberal  with  promises 
of  marriage,  tickets  for  balls,  concerts  and  other  amuse- 
ments, and  in  many  other  ways.  In  fact,  he  averaged  over 
£10  per  week  and  seldom  had  a  shilling  left  on  Mondays 
— he  several  times  asked  me  for  the  loan  of  sixpence.  In 
the  end  he  had  made  things  so  lively  and  complicated  that 
he  found  it  necessary  to  vanish  suddenly  without  formali- 
ties and  testimonials. 

in  one  place  an  old  lady  of  about  seventy  whom  I  had 
called  upon  told  me  she  had  no  use  for  a  machine  as  she 
had  an  old  one  that  was  god  enough  for  all  the  little  work 
she  had  to  do.  I  thought  the  case  hopeless.  Three  days 
later  Chester  drove  into  the  yard  of  the  hotel  we  were  stay- 
ing at  with  that  old  lady's  antiquated  machine  in  his  trap. 
I  knew  it  at  once  and  said,  *' Hullo,  did  you  sell  that  old 
Mrs. a  machine?" 

*'Yes,"  was  his  reply. 

Next  morning  1  went  straight  to  her  house  and  remarked, 
*'Well,  Mrs. I  find  you  have  taken  one  of  our  ma- 
chines; you  might  just  as  well  have  given  me  the  order." 

Her  defense  w|is,  ''Well,  my  dear  man,  there  he  sat 
(pointing  to  the  sofa)  all  day  long  and  I  could  not  get  rid 
of  him  till  I  took  that  machine."     I  was  not  surprised. 

372 


I 


THE     EMIGRANT. 


It  was  a  wonder  that  he  had  not  proposed  and  promised 
^^  marry  her— it  was  such  an  every  day  affair  with  him. 
^pAt  yet  another  place  he  did  me  out  of  a  sale  by  a  down- 
right dirty  trick. 

He  called  at  a  house  where  I  had  been  given  a  promise 
of  buying,  and  the  man  there,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
said  to  him,  ''I  promised  Mr.  Jager  the  sale  and  I  would 
not  give  it  to  anybody  else."  Next  day  Chester  called 
again  with  a  telegram  and  told  the  man  he  had  telegraphed 
to  the  head  office,  "And  here  is  the  answer,"  said  he  (show- 
ing what  appeared  to  be  a  telegram)  "telling  me  that  Mr. 
Jager  has  left  the  Company." 

"Well,"  said  the  man,  "if  that  is  the  case  I  might  just 
as  well  take  the  machine  from  you,"  which  he  did.  When 
I  called  again  the  man  was  surprised  and  indignant  at  the 
trick  played  on  both  of  us.  . 

Still,  I  was  doing  exceedingly  well,  and  both  paying 
interest  on  the  mortgage  on  my  two  houses  and  saving  a 
few  pounds  that  proved  very  useful  a  few  months  later. 


373 


CHAPTER  LXXVI 


CHAPTER  LXXVI. 

A  FEW   SHORT  FACTS. 

After  my  Christmas  spree— a  very  mild  one— I  went 
back  for  some  time  to  my  country  rambles — exchanging 
iron  and  wood  for  gold. 

Serious  symptoms  of  consumption  supervened  upon  a 
severe  cold  I  had  caught  in  a  foolish  way,  helped  also  by  my 
being  for  many  years  subject  to  bronchitis,  and  I  wrote  to 
one  of  the  leading  doctors  of  Melbourne  about  the  matter 
and  asked  if  he  could  treat  me  by  injecting  Dr.  Koch's 
tuberculine,  which  I  had  read  a  good  deal  about.  I  shall 
give  fuller  particulars  either  at  the  end  of  this  or  in  a 
following  chapter,  simply  for  the  benefit  of  some  of  my 
fellow  creatures  who  may  be  interested;  those  who  don't 
care  to  be  bothered  with  it  can  more  conveniently  skip  it 
there  than  they  could  here.  For  the  present  I  prefer  to 
keep  to  the  principal  items  in  my  tale.  This  short  refer- 
ence is,  however,  necessary  to  my  chain  of  facts. 

The  doctor  asked  me  to  come  down  at  once  so  that  he 
could  examine  me. 

Another  traveled  for  the  Singer  Company,  with  whom  I 
was  friendly,  drove  me  to  the-  Benalla  Railway  station. 
While  waiting  and  chatting  with  the  porter  I  happened  to 
mention  that  I  was  then  thirty-eight  years  of  age.  At  this 
my  friend,  pointing  to  my  two  boxes,  said  in  a  jocular 
way,  "And  that  is  all  your  gathering  in  thirty-eight 
years  1 ' ' 

The  remark  stung  me  rather  sharply,  and  I  resolved  that 
if  my  health  permitted  I  would  do  my  best  to  make  more 

375 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

headway  in  the  world,  and  I  kept  that  resolution,  as  you 
will  now  see.  I  still  had  the  two  houses,  but  neither  then 
nor  later  did  they  in  the  least  assist  me.  I  was  paying 
heavy  interest  on  the  mortgage  and  ultimately  had  to  let 
them  go. 

The  doctor's  announcement  fully  confirmed  my  fears, 
but  he  undertook  to  treat  me,  and  in  about  four  month's 
he  was  completely  successful  and  I  have  had  no  further 
trouble  of  that  nature  since— a  period  of  fifteen  years; 
though  for  eight  years  longer  I  was  still  subject  to  bron- 
chitis. 

For  a  short  period  after  this  return  to  Melbourne  I  can- 
vassed for  the  Singer  Company  in  one  of  the  suburbs  and 
then  I  thought  I  had  beter  "paddle  my  own  csinoe"  in 
business  once  mor.e 

I  had  come  across  one  of  my  wife's  distant  relatives  who 
was  in  business  in  a  leading  thoroughfare  in  Fitzroy  (a 
busy  suburb  of  and  close  to  Melbourne).  He  wished  to 
let  part  of  his  shop,  and  as  he  offered  it  at  10s.  per  week 
I  felt  confident  I  could  make  it  pay. 

I  took  the  offer,  rigged  up  a  bench  in  the  window, 
bought  a  few  old  machines,  some  tools,  etc.,  and  then  as 
far  as  cash  was  concerned  was  ''stone  broke"  as  ever  I 
had  been  in  my  life. 

But  I  worked  hard  and  long  and  in  about  eight  months 
I  was  able  to  take  a  larger  shop  on  the  same  street,  and 
from  that  time  made  money  fast.  Further  on  I  will  give 
you  some  idea  of  my  methods  and  points,  in  the  hope  of 
helping  others;  but  I  don't  want  to  dwell  too  long  at  a 
time  on  business,  so  for  a  change  will  pass  for  the  present 
to  more  interesting  facts  of  this  period. 


376 


» 


CHAPTER  LXXVII 


k 


CHAPTER  LXXVII. 

ANOTHER  LOVE  AFFAIR— NOT  MINE. 

My  wife's  distant  relative  (my  first  landlord  in  Fitzroy) 
whom  I  will  call  Mr.  Trick,  used  to  go  out  one  evening 
overy  week  in  such  a  style  as  to  provoke  and  justify  some 
curiosity.  Any  man  may  go  out  any  number  of  evenings, 
not  exceeding  seven  per  week,  without  people  worrying 
nuivh  about  him.  But  if  he  periodically  knocks  off  work 
an  hour  earlier  than  usual,  polishes  his  boots  till  they  daz- 
zle you  if  you  look  at  them  with  the  naked  eye;  shaves 
elaborately,  takes  a  hot  bath  with  Old  Brown  Windsor 
soap,  fumes  and  fusses  and  raves  over  his  clean  linen  and 
neckties,  cleans  his  teeth  with  Floriline  or  something  of 
that  sort,  brushes  his  hair  all  around  the  compass  to  dispose 
it  to  the  best  advantage,  takes  his  tea  in  fitful  snatches,  and 
finally,  after  a  hundred  other  nervous  formalities  departs 
in  his  utmost  splendor  with  a  rush  like  a  sky-rocket— when 
these  things  happen  you  and  I  and  the  world  are  likely  to 
become  a  little  interested  and  inquisitive. 

The  symptoms  were  easy  enough  to  diagnose— I  had 
more  than  once  or  twice  suffered  that  way  myself.  But 
human  nature  takes  a  depraved  joy  in  the  woes  and  rack- 
ing throes  of  its  fellows.  So,  taking  the  liberty  arising 
from  diluted  relationship  and  having  known  him  as  a  boy, 
1  one  evening  said,  "Hullo,  Trick,  where  are  you  off  to  in 
full  uniform?" 

He  found  time  somehow,  probably  from  a  longing  for 
sympathy,  to  give  me  a  section  of  his  auto-biography. 
Condensed,  it  was  to  this  effect: 

377 


THE.  EMIGRANT. 

He  had  been  a  steward  on  one  of  the  mail  boats  run- 
ning to  Australia,  and  hearing  all  around  him  wonderful 
accounts  of  the  new  gold  land,  had  run  away  from  the  ship 
on  its  arrival.  He  soon  found  that  "it  was  not  all  beer 
and  skittles, ' '  as  the  phrase  goes,  and  for  a  long  time  could 
get  no  employment  of  any  kind,  till  at  last  he  had  to  ac- 
cept a  place  as  "boots  and  generally  useful"  in  a  good 
boarding  house  kept  by  a  superior  lady  with  two  daughters. 
The  lady  soon  discovered  he  was  well  educated  and  fitted 
for  a  better  position  and  therefore  treated  him  with  con- 
sideration. When  after  a  little  while  he  left  for  a  more 
satisfactory  opening,  she  invited  him  to  call  and  see  her, 
and  notwithstanding  marriage  entanglements  on  both 
sides  both  happened  to  be  lonely  and  susceptible.  Conse- 
quently the  acquaintanceship  was  not  long  in  ripening 
into  mutual  attraction  and  commiseration;  and  though 
tyrant  Fate  stood  with  the  drawn  sword  of  the  law  be- 
tween them,  the  lawless  god  of  Love  and  the  socialistic 
principle  of  personal  freedom  with  which  they  were  im- 
bued tempted  them  to  circumvent  the  stern  intervener. 
Trick  himself  came  of  a  family  which  so  far  as  I  knew 
them,  as  notably  in  the  case  of  my  father-in-law  and  my 
wife,  were  not  Josephs,  and  possibly  th.3  lady  in  this  case 
was  similarly  situated. 

It  was  necessary,  however,  to  superficially  observe  the 
properties,  so  the  following  fairly  ingenious  arrangement 
was  adopted : 

Trick,  would  openly  and  boldly  ring  the  front  door 
bell  at  about  a  certain  time  on  one  particular  evening  each 
week— taking  care  that  the  street  was  tolerably  clear  of 
passers-by  close  at  hand,  and  would  then  slip  around  to  the 
right-of-way  at  the  back.  (I  have  myself  seen  this  per- 
formance). 

The  house-maid  after  opening  the  door  would  report  to 
her  mistress  that  it  was  a  false  alarm,  and  the  aggrieved 
lady  would  blame  "those  tiresome  boys,"  and  utter  threats 
of  terrible  vengeance.   . 

The  maid  having  been  anchored  to  some  duty  out  of  the 

378 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

way,  her  mistress  would,  when  all  was  safe,  open  the  back 
gate  to  the  real  culprit,  and  a  convenient  headache  to 
which  the  lady  was  liable,  or  some  other  excuse,  kept  the 
servant  and  the  rest  of  the  world  at  bay. 

Mr.  Trick  is  now  married  to  another  lady  and  has  a 
family  of  which  he  is  proud ;  I  hope  there  are  no  ingenious 
tricks  in  his  establishment  of  which  he  would  disapprove. 
There  are  two  or  three  distinct  and  profitable  readings  of 
the  old  saying,  ''One  half  of  the  world  doesn't  know  how 
the  other  half  lives."  Some  of  us  may  be  too  suspicious 
and  cynical  and,  as  a  friend  puts  it,  ^' quite  as  Mind  to  the 
good  in  the  world  as  to  the  had.''  Anyhow,  there  is  far 
more- of  the  latter  than  is  easily  seen.  It  seems  to  be  the 
chronic  state  of  things  from  Adam 's  time,  and  likely  to  go 
on  to  the  end  of  the  world. 


379 


1 


CHAPTER  I^XXVIII 


.  CHAPTER  LXXVIIT. 

A  YOUNG   SCAPEGRACE. 

How  it  came  about  I  hardly  know,  but  Mr.  Trick  man- 
aged to  pick  up  acquaintance  with  a  young  and  giddy  fel- 
low who  had  been  sent  out  by  his  father- -a  well-to-do  mer- 
chant in  Hamburg.  He  was  the  only  son,  too ;  and,  though 
only  about  eighteen  years  of  age  when  we  knew  him,  his 
exile  had  been  brought  about  by  something  in  the  nature 
of  escapades  or  irregularities  (whether  one  or  more  I  can- 
not say)  that  evidently  made  his  absence  from  home  and 
his  native  land  most  desirable  either  for  himself  or  some- 
one else  closely  concerned.  Whatever  it  was,  he  did  not 
parade  it  ostentatiously  even  in  sympathetic  company  like 
ours,  so  I  suspect  he  took  very  little  pride  in  it. 

It  is  strange,  by  the  way,  to  what  an  extent  Australia  is 
made  a  dumping  ground  or  a  moral  sanatorium  for  the 
prodigals  and  wastrels  of  Europe.  Is  is  because  of  its  re- 
moteness and  therefore  greater  safety  from  pursuit  or  un- 
welcome return?  Or  because  its  strenuous  life  is  thought 
a  healthy  tonic — as  it  no  doubt  is  in  many  cases?  Or  is  it 
that  to  the  fervid  imagination  of  the  Old  World  mind  (only 
half  informed  as  to  facts)  its  supposed  deserts,  and  deso- 
late plains,  and  trackless  bush,  and  its  fiery  hot  winds,  to 
them  seem  a  sample  of  that  dread  realm  where  sinners 
naturally  drift  at  last,  and  therefore  likely  to  exercise  a 
salutary  scarifying  and  reformatory  effect  upon  unregener- 
ate  youth? 

Whatever  the  cause  of  this  young  fellow's  banishment, 
he  eame  well  provided  with  money,  but  it  would  be  hard  to 

381 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

find  a  greater  curse  to  such  as  he  in  a  coun- 
try like  Australia,  or  perhaps  anywhere,  than  free  com- 
mand of  money  in  any  quantity.  Harpies  and  sharpies 
scent  it  as  vultures  scent  new  carrion,  or  a  flies  a  butcher 's 
shop.  They  descend  upon  him  from  all  quarters,  and  he  is 
lucky  indeed  if  he  escapes  with  no  worse  hurt  than  rapidly 
emptied  pockets  and  then  being  left  to  shift  for  himself. 

Like  nearly  all  these  young  idiots,  this  one  was  generous 
in  the  extreme  as  well  as  recklessly  self-indulgent;  and  in 
very  little  time  he  was  ''cleaned  out,"  as  thoroughly  as  dogs 
and  cats  will  clean  a  plate  of  good  meat— then  his  friends 
(?)  went  after  others  like  him. 

He  was  lodging  in  a  boarding-house  while  looking  for 
work,  and  was  liked  and  well  treated  there ;  but  business  is 
business  in  boarding-houses  as  elsewhere,  and  when  he  was 
a  few  weeks  in  arrears  things  got  unpleasant.  He  told  us 
that  every  time  he  went  out  he  was  watched  to  see  whether 
he  was  carrying  any  parcels  away — for  they  knew  he  had 
a  few  personal  valuables  left. 

He  said  he  would  like  to  leave  so  as  not  to  get  further 
in  debt,  but  they  would  not  let  him  do  so ;  he  did  not  know 
what  to  do. 

A  few  evenings  later  he  came  to  our  place  laden  with 
paper  parcels,  explaining  that  he  had  got  his  clothes  away 
but  had  been  obliged  to  leave  the  empty  box  behind. 

He  was  cackling  with  pride  over  the  strategy  he  had 
displayed.  The  window  of  his  room,  which  was  upstairs, 
overlooked  a  small  back  street,  and  he  had  taken  advantage 
of  this  fact  in  the  following  way: 

He  first  did  up  his  belongings  into  separate  bundles,  tied 
a  long  string  to  each,  put  the  bundles  on  a  table  close  to 
the  window,  and  lowered  the  free  end  of  each  attached 
string  out  of  the  window— of  course  having  the  latter  open. 
Then  he  screwed  his  box  to  the  floor  and  locked  it,  so  that 
it  could  not  be  easily  moved,  and  would  also  seem  to  bo 
heavy  with  things  inside  instead  of  empty.  Then  he 
sauntered  downstairs  and  out  at  the  front-door  with  empty 
hands,  innocence  in  his  face,  and  guile  in  his  young  heart ; 

382 


THE    EMIGRANT.     ^ 

paused  outside  with  seeming  irresolution,  drifted  carelessly 
to  the  corner;  then  cut  swiftly  around  to  the  back  street 
and  by  means  of  the  strings  hanging  out  of  the  open  win- 
dow he  hauled  out  and  caught  his  parcels,  and  cleared  off 
to  us.  However,  when  later  he  received  a  remittance  from 
his  father  he  paid  these  people  in  full. 

We  kept  him  with  us  for  awhile,  and  I  gave  him  a  bit 
of  the  best  advice  which  I  had  still  in  stock— though  some 


of  it  was,  perhaps,  rather  mildewed  by  being  kept  in  out  of 
the  way  corners  for  a  long  time. 

He  obtained  a  situation  as  waiter  in  one  of  the  principal 
clubs  of  Melbourne,  and  the  very  first  week  made  a  con- 
siderable impression. 

Some  celebrity  had  been  banqueted,  and  the  salvage  was 
being  cleared  up.     A  large  clothes  basket  had  been  filled 


383 


THEEMIGRANT. 

with  wine  glasses,  and  several  half  emptied  wine-bottles 
had  been  wholly  emptied  into  some  of  the  waiters,  in- 
cjuding  our  friend,  whose  unseasoned  system  speedily  be- 
came overtaxed,  and,  as  misfortune  would  have  it  he  col- 
lapsed close  to  the  basket  and  fell  bang  into  it,  as  though 
in  a  violent  hurry  to  sit  down,  and  smashed  every  glass  it 


contained — to  say  nothing  of  very  painfully  lacerating  his 
clothing  and  his  own  and  the  head  waiter's  feelings.  He 
naturally  left  that  club  without  delay  or  reference  and  with 
great  personal  velocity,  imparted  by  his  chief's  boot  and 
discouraging  remarks,  and  woke  us  up  at  four  o'clock 
that  morning  with  as  much  excited  energy  as  if  we  had  been 


384 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

a  city  of  refuge  and  the  avenger  had  been  at  his  heels.  We 
took  him  in  and  laid  him  up  for  repairs. 

He  was  a  willing  lad,  however,  and  soon  found  another 
billet,  this  time  as  a  hand  on  a  dairy  farm  where  one  of  his 
duties  was  to  daily  drive  the  milk-wagon  to  the  creamery. 
The  first  and  only  letter  we  received  from  him  gave  a  glow- 
ing account  of  his  getting  on,  but  a  few  weeks  later  he  unex- 
pectedly turned  up  once  more  at  our  hospitable  door  with 
dilapidated  boots  and  dejected  face. 

It  seems  that  as  he  was  one  day  driving  to  the  creamery 
the  horses  had  bolted,  smashed  the  wagon  and  upset  all  the 
milk  on  the  road.  Not  liking  the  idea  of  having  to  break 
this  disturbing  news  to  his  employer,  he  had  tramped  to 
the  nearest  railway  station  and  taken  the  first  train  he 
could  catch  to  Melbourne  and  friendly  shelter. 

After  breaking  sundry  other  things  in  Victoria,  one  or 
two  being  a  tender  nature,  and  having  received  another 
remittance  from  his  father,  master  Scapegrace  said  that 
as  he  seemed  to  have  no  luck  in  this  colony  he  would  try 
South  Australia— and  for  about  two  years  Mr.  Trick  and  1 
mourned  the  absence  of  his  sweet  and  lively  presence  and 
often  w^ondered  how  he  was  getting  on— or  off. 

One  day  Mr.  Trick  handed  me  a  photo,  in  which  he  and 
two  other  festive  young  dogs  were  depicted  on  a  camel,  ap- 
parently in  some  West  Australian  desert,  he  in  an  evening 
suit  and  patent  leather  shoes,  and  all  flourishing  whisky 
bottles  and  glasses  in  their  hands  with  idiotic  distortions  of 
their  faces.  The  literature  that  accompanied  the  photo  in- 
formed us  that  they  were  on  a  prospecting  expedition. 
That  was  the  last  we  ever  heard  of  him— so  I  am  in  doubt 
whether  he  later  broke  his  neck  by  accident  or  hy  law  or 
acquired  a  large  fortune— the  last  being  one  of  the  com- 
monest causes  of  the  disappearance  of  acquaintances. 


385 


CHAPTER  LXXIX 


I 


CHAPTER  LXXIX. 

MY    METHODS. 


I  promised  a  chapter  or  so  back  to  give  those  who  may  be 
interested  some  idea  of  my  methods  and  points  in  business 
and  fortune-making.    Now  for  these. 

Only  the  other  day  I  met  friend  I  had  not  seen  for  some 
years  and  he  asked  me  what  I  was  doing  now.  I  told  him 
I  had  made  enough  in  business  in  ten  years  to  keep  me  to 
the  end  of  my  life. 

"How  did  you  do  it?"  he  inquired. 

' '  Well, ' '  I  replied,  "  it  is  very  simple ;  when  I  was  in  busi- 
ness I  always  paid  cash  for  everything  I  bought,  I  knew 
every  week  what  I  had  earned  and  never  spent  it  all,  and 
my  husiness  had  all  my  attention;  if  the  people  did  not 
come  to  me  I  went  to  them.  I  am  sure  I  could  do  the  same 
again  if  I  were  stranded  once  more,  which  I  don't  think 
will  ever  happen  again,  as  I  will  never  give  one  of  my  sover- 
eigns for  a  share  of  any  description." 

I  went  on,  "Any  amount  of  you  people  here  start  a  busi- 
ness that  ought  to  pay  and  could  be  made  to  pay,  but  you 
think  more  of  horse-racing  or  some  other  sport  than  of  your 
business.  If  business  comes  along  at  five  or  six  o'clock  you 
say,  ^  Oh,  it 's  too  late  now,  I  will  see  to  it  tomorrow  morn- 
ing,'  and  away  you  go  to  your  theatres  or  other  diversions. 
When  the  morning  comes  and  you  think  of  tackling  the 
business  that  offered  itself  the  afternoon  before  you  find 
that  someone  else  has  got  it  and  perhaps  done  it  last  night. ' ' 

All  my  freind  could  reply  was,  that  he  thought  I  was  a 
lucky  man. 

887 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Here  is  a  speciman  of  my  "luck,"  if  you  like  to  call 
it  SO: 

One  day  I  sold  no  less  than  six  machines  and  made  about 
£8  on  these  transactions.  The  last  machine  I  and  a  carrier 
(who  also  worked  for  himself)  delivered  at  ten  o'clock  at 
night  as  the  tailor  who  had  bought  it  wanted  it  urgently. 
Being  a  very  dark  night  we  had  some  difficulty  in  finding 
the  house  and  had  to  use  matches  in  looking  for  the  num- 
bers on  the  doors.  Next  day  was  then  free  for  fresh  busi- 
ness. I  and  the  carrier  were  making  money  while  nearly 
everybody  else  in  our  lines  were  amusing  themselves.  I 
had  no  business  worry  to  take  to  bed  with  me  that  night, 
(nor  many  other  nights)  ;  I  felt  contented  and  happy  with 
the  result  of  that  day's  work,  and  next  morning  (as  usual- 
ly) began  again  full  of  brisk  energy  and  wide-aw^ake  reso- 
lution. Had  some  of  the  previous  day's  business  remained 
on  hand  to  attend  to,  it  would  have  been  a  drag  on  my 
mind,  my  energies  and  my  valuable  time.  Many  a  day 
was  more  or  less  like  the  one  here  recorded,  though  not,  per- 
haps, quite  so  excellent  in  results. 

Many  a  time  I  have  sold  a  machine  late  in  the  evening 
through  calling  to  see  a  husband  after  he  had  had  his  tea 
and  was  at  some  leisure.  If  anybody  called  to  make  in- 
quiries at  my  shop,  I  did  my  best  to  keep  in  touch  with 
them  until  I  had  succeeded  in  effecting  a  sale  or  getting 
some  repairing  to  do. 

I  am  one  of  the  last  men  in  the  world  to  sweat  anybody 
else,  but  if  I  choose  to  work  hard  and  long  myself  I  have 
always  held  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  do  so  when  I  have 
the  chance,  for  of  course  in  business  there  will  often  come 
times  when  you  don't  get  the  chance.  This,  then,  was  one 
of  my  points,  to  "make  hay  while  the  sun  shines." 

There  is  a  tendency  now-a-days  for  well-meaning  enough 
governments  to  over-meddle  with  private  affairs  and  ef- 
forts and  to  crush  proper  enterprise  and  energy  out  of  its 
citizens.  In  my  opinion,  it  is  a  very  bad  day  for  a  nation 
when  enterprise  on  the  part  of  an  individual  is  hampered 
and  he  is  forced  to  at  least  partial  idleness. 

388        * 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


I  am  thoroughly  in  sympathy  with,  bona  fide  workers  of 
all  kinds,  and  fully  realize  their  drawbacks,  especially 
those  of  employes,  but  in  my  opinion  some  of  the  remedies 
attempted  are  unstatesmanlike  and  like  some  medicinal 
treatment,  worse  than  the  disease.  There  is,  on  the  part  of 
legislators,  a  sort  of  high  treason  against  the  best  interests 
of  the  sovereign  people— a  traitorous  betrayal  of  the 
general  public  of  the  same  nature  as  when  unreliable  weap- 
ons of  war  are  supplied  to  an  army  or  navy.  Our  political 
history  in  Australia  is  full  of  glaring  instances  of  such 
things.  At  our  periodical  elections  the  voice  of  the  people 
has  repeatedly  demanded  political  bread,  as  in  the  form  of 
a  fair  and  scientific  land-tax,  and  they  have  been  given 
stone  after  stone  to  masticate — if  they  can. 

Some  of  the  legislation  enacted  aims  less  at  increasing 
the  sum  total  and  opportunities  of  prosperity  than  to  make 
what  there  is  cover  a  little  more  ground.  Now,  I  do  not 
propose  to  go  further  into  political  questicms ;  it  will  be  suf- 
ficient for  my  purpose  to  condense  my  views  into  the  sim- 
ple statement  that  my  ideal  politically  is  that  there  should 
be  the  maximum  of  opportunities  and  inducements  (which 
includes  the  protective  principle)  and  of  population,  and 
the  minimum  of  interference  consistent  with  collective 
rights— there  should  be  somewhere  a  happy  mean  between 
conflicting  ideals. 

Having  made  money  in  my  daily  business  I  economized 
and  saved  it  without  being  miserly,  for  I  lived  as  well  as 
any  man  need,  and  even  from  time  to  time  indulged  in 
rational  pleasures  and  luxuries;  but  I  took  care  to  con- 
vStantly  accumulate  and  to  duly  provide  for  any  invest- 
ments I  had  in  hand  or  in  view. 

I  had  learned  a  painful  lesson  as  regards  mining  and 
other  shares,  and  decided  to  invest  only,  and  cautiously,  in 
houses  and  land  where  I  could  see  immediate  and  safe,  if 
relatively  small  returns. 

I  steadily  built  up  my  capital  both  by  means  of  my  busi- 
ness and  by  disposing  of  my  property  I  had  previously  pur- 
chased as  soon  as  a  fair  profit  was  procurable  upon  it.  I 
did  not  wait  for  fancy  prices. 

389 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

I  kept  a  keen  look-out  for  cheap  and  safe  house-property, 
bought  it  when  the  chance  offered  and  I  had  the  means  at 
command,  profited  by  the  rents  for  a  time  and  sold  out 
again  at  the  first  favorable  opportunity,  reinvesting  else- 
where on  the  same  principles.  A  keen  eye  for  chances  as 
well  as  business  proper,  incessant  caution,  and  common 
sense  have,  I  think,  been  the  chief  factors  in  my  success— 
"apart  from  mere  industry  in  the  first  place. 

So  much  for  what  some  may  call  * '  luck ; ' '  now  for  an  in- 
stance of  what  the  principal  parties  concerned  call  ''bad 
luck.^' 

I  know  of  a  man  who  at  about  the  time  of  my  arrival  in 
Tasmania  was  worth  about  £30,000  and  had  a  large  and 
prosperous  business,  and  continued  to  prosper  until  about 
the  time  of  my  arrival  in  Victoria;  hence  one  reason  for 
citing  this  case.  He  had  a  special  talent  for  making  money, 
but  his  wife  and  rather  large  family  had  an  equal  talent, 
unchecked  by  him,  for  spending  or  rather  wasting  it.  His 
wife  had  been  known  to  boast  that  her  house-keeping  ex- 
penses alone  came  to  about  £20  per  week.  This  possibly 
might  not  have  mattered  much  had  fortune  continued  to 
smile,  but  heavy  losses  came  (some  preventable,  I  think,  by 
ordinary  caution  and  system)  and  having  no  reserve  to 
fall  back  upon  (thanks  to  extravagance)  a  complete  crash 
came.  He  struggled  on  gamely,  however,  for  a  few  years 
and  would,  I  think,  have  again  been  successful,  but  for  that 
fatal  domestic  extravagance  which  continued  to  a  great  ex- 
tent to  the  very  last.  He  died  broken-hearted,  his  wife  fol- 
lowed after  running  through  a  legacy  which  came  to  her- 
self ;  one  of  their  sons,  hardly  opt  of  his  teens,  is  this  very 
day  of  writing  literally  homeless,  sleeping  on  verandas  or 
in  a  stable— thanks  mostly  to  betting  and  drink,  and  even 
some  of  the  daughters  are  but  little  better  off.  This  is  a 
fair  and  accurate  epitome  of  the  facts.  I  give  them  not  for 
the  sake  of  personal  contrast,  but  just  as  we  place  a  warn- 
ing buoy  over  a  sunken  wreck,  a  fairway,  or  over  some  dan- 
gerous shoal— and  in  order  to  ask,  ''Is  this  a  case  of  real 
ill-luck  or  one  of  mismanagement  like  many  others?" 


390 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


I  know  cases  of  real  misfortune  occur,  but  to  the  best  of 
my  judgment,  based  upon  observation,  real  ill-luck  is  little 
if  any  more  common  than  exceptional  good  luck— such  as 
finding  a  nugget  or  getting  a  large  legacy.  I  think  most 
have  it  in  their  power,  often  repeatedly,  to  gain  for  them- 
selves a  fair  measure  of  success— if  they  go  about  it  sensibly 
and  with  energy. 

Some  of  my  shipmates  and  others  I  have  been  in  close 
contact  with  have  been  as  successful  as  myself— two  or 
three  even  more  so. 


391 


CHAPTER  LXXX 


CHAPTER  LXXX. 

HOW  I  WAS  CURED  OF   CONSUMPTION  AND  BRONCHITIS. 

To  some  of  my  readers  perhaps,  I  owe  a  short  special 
chapter— promised  a  little  way  back.  To  such  it  may  pos- 
sibly prove  the  most  interesting  and,  I  hope,  valuable,  in 
the  whole  book.  To  the  general  public  I  presume  it  will  be 
of  no  interest  or  (present)  use  whatever;  in  fact,  I  should 
be  profoundly  sorry,  nay  distressed,  if  it  were  otherwise— 
if  the  majority  of  my  fellow  creatures  felt  any  direct  per- 
sonal interest  in  its  contents. 

Nevertheless,  those  to  whom  it  may  be  of  interest  and,  I 
trust  perhaps  immeasureable  utility,  must,  even  in  English 
speaking  countries,  probably  number  as  many  as  the  whole 
population  of  one  of  the  Australian  states,  or  any  two  if 
not  more  of  their  capitals,  and  perhaps  as  many  as  the 
population  of  any  of  the  greatest  cities  of  Europe  or 
America— saving  possibly  London. 

For  this  chapter  is  meant  solely  for  sufferers,  or  friends 
of  sufferers,  from  that  dread  disease  "Consumption"  and 
from  Bronchitis.  I  have  been  at  diff'erent  times  and  by  dif- 
ferent treatment  absolutely  cured  of  both,  I  desire  to  ex- 
plain how— not  for  my  own  pleasure,  but  their  hoped  for 
profit. 

Those  who  have  read  this  book  through  will  remember 
that  my  father  died  of  consumption,  that  during  my 
earliest  years  (until  about  seven  years  of  age)  I  was  a  very 
delicate  child,  and  that  when  quite  a  young  man  I  con- 
tracted a  terribly  severe  cold  which  settled  into  a  chronic 
and  severe  bronchial  trouble  which  in  itself  induced  me  to 

393 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

leave  my  native  land  for  South  America  in  the  hope  of  a 
warmer  and  drier  climate  being  of  benefit;  that  this  ob- 
ject failed  and  that  the  bronchial  trouble  remained  with 
me  until  a  very  few  years  ago— that  is,  for  about  twenty- 
five  years  in  all,  when  I  got  rid  of  it  finally  in  a  very  sim- 
ple and  speedy  way. 

They  will  remember  that  since  my  arrival  in  Australia, 
that  is,  about  the  end  of  1885,  I  once  more  contracted  a  very 
severe  cold  which  brought  on  very  serious  symptoms  of 
consumption,  and  that  I  have  already  shortly  stated  that 
those  symptoms  were  completely  cured  by  a  leading  Mel- 
bourne doctor. 

I  now  give  the  detailed  information  as  concisely  as  I  can, 
consistently  with  due  definiteness.  I  trust  I  shall  not  be 
suspected  of  merely  advertising  anybody ;  there  is  absolute- 
ly nothing  of  this  kind  in  the  remotest  degree.  This  is  purely 
spontaneous  testimony,  given  with  the  conviction  that  a 
vast  number  of  my  fellow-creatures  would  obtain  as  much 
benefit  as  myself  from  similar  treatment. 

My  consumptive  symptoms  were  treated  and  cured  first, 
so  I  give  the  facts  thereof  first  place. 

■One  fearfully  hot  Sunday  in  1891  (it  was  110  degrees 
in  the  shade)  I  yielded  to  the  temptation  to  leave  off  my 
under-flannel  shirt,  and  noticed  that  notwithstanding  the 
heat  I  shivered  somewhat.  Next  day  I  resumed  the  flannel, 
but  the  mischief  was  done  (beware  of  such  foolishness  as 
this,  for  '' prevention  is  better  than  cure.") 

A  severe  cold  resulted,  with  distressing  coughing  and  ex- 
pectoration, also  a  sharp  pain  in  the  right  lung  every  time 
I  coughed.  In  a  few  days  I  noticed  that  my  right  shoulder 
was  falling  in,  and  I  wrote  almost  at  once  to  Dr.  Spring- 
thorpe,  of  Collins  St.,  Melbourne,  describing  my  case  gener- 
ally and  asking  him  (as  I  have  previously  mentioned)  if 
he  could  treat  me  by  injecting  Dr.  Koch's  Tuberculine — 
about  which  I  had  read  a  good  deal.  His  answer  was  sim- 
ply, ''Come  down  at  once." 

This  I  did,  and  after  examining  me  the  doctor  informed 


384 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

me  that  my  right  lung  was  affected  and  a  piece  gone  out  of 
it. 

He  at  once  began  to  inoculate  me  under  the  shoulder 
blades,  three  times  each  week.  After  about  four  months 
of  this  treatment  the  doctor  announced  that  my  lung 
was  Ileal ed  up  again,  and  I  have  never  had  any  trouble 
from  it  or  in  that  way  since— now  close  upon  fifteen  years. 

It  was  not  till  about  eight  years  later  that  I  was  cured 
of  the  bronchial  trouble.    It  came  about  in  this  way : 

Year  by  year  the  trouble  had  become  worse,  so  that  I 
was  never  without  a  cold  and  expectoration  winter  or  sum- 
mer, though  naturally  it  was  not  so  bad  in  warm  weather 
as  in  cold.  The  least  draught,  or  even  getting  my  hair 
cut,  would  infallibly  bring  on  a  fresh  cold— it  was  cold  on 
cold  incessantly. 

At  last  something  put  it  into  my  head  to  consult  a  spe- 
cialist on  Collins  St.  about  the  matter. 

As  soon  as  he  had  examined  my  throat  he  said,  ''I  can 
tell  you  what  is  the  matter  with  you ;  your  ovula  is  too 
long  and  the  end  of  it  reaches  onto  the  root  of  your  tongue 
and  that  causes  irritation  and  year  by  year  it  spreads  more 
and  more  over  yooir  bronchial  tubes,  and  all  your  doctoring 
will  do  you  no  good  unless  you  remove  the  cause— that  is, 
to  cut  the  ovula  shorter." 

He  took  me  at  once  to  a  surgeon,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  operation,  a  simple  one,  was  performed.  From  this 
time  the  bronchitis  gradually  disappeared,  and  for  the  last 
five  or  six  years  I  have  been  seldom  troubled  with  a  cold. 
The  surgical  fee  was  only  one  guinea,  whereas  I  had  pre- 
viously spent  at  least  £50  on  doctors,  patent  medicines, 
inhalers  and  so  on  in  the  effort  to  cure  that  trouble  alone. 

Not  a  single  doctor  ever  before  told  me  the  real  cause  of 
it.  I  may  add,  also,  that  the  surgeon  told  me  the  cause  in 
my  case  might  not  have  the  same  effect  with  everybody; 
irritation  from  the  ovula  or  tonsils  is  only  likely  to  happen 
with  those  whose  throats  are  naturally  tender. 

Therefore  I  advise  anybody  who  is  very  liable  to  throat 
and  bronchial  troubles  not  to  spend  money  on  patent  medi- 

395 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

cines  and  such  means  of  relief,  but  to  go  to  a  reliable  sur- 
geon and  get  your  ovula  seen  to  and  if  too  long  get  it 
shortened.  I  think  I  can  assure  you  you  will  obtain  im- 
measureable  benefit  by  the  treatment ;  and  the  operation  is 
so  slight  that  you  hardly  feel  anything  of  it. 

Now,  don't  be  like  Naaman,  the  haughty  noble  leper,  by 
holding  in  contempt  advice  because  of  its  simplicity;  it 
only  means  consulting  in  the  first  place  a  thoroughly  re- 
liable and  qualified  practitioner  or  specialist,  putting  to 
him  a  definite  question  on  such  points  as  herein  given,  and 
quoting  if  you  like  my  testimony. 

I  see  by  to-day's  ''Age"  (Jan.  19th,  1907)  as  I  have 
noticed  once  or  twice  before,  that  Dr.  Koch  has  lost  con- 
fidence in  his  serum  cure  for  consumption.  Undoubtedly, 
he  ought  to  be  able  to  accurately  gauge  its  merits  and  I 
feel  personally  greatly  disappointed  by  his  seeming  dis- 
couragement ;  but  is  it  not  very  possible  that  he  and 
others  are  now  too  pessimistic  as  regards  the  efficiency  of 
that  treatment?  It  may  not  be  a  certain  cure  in  all  cases; 
it  may  fail  in  a  very  large  percentage ;  but  may  there  not  be 
still  a  large  percentage  of  cases  which  could  be  successfully 
treated  by  that  method,  as  to  all  appearances  in  mine  ? 

I  have  mj^self  such  confidence  in  that  method  that  I  feel 
certain  that  any  case  if  taken  in  time  eould  and  would  be 
cured. 


396 


THE    EMIGRANT. 


THE  AUTHOR   ON   AN   OUTING 


397 


Facts  About   Southern    California 


Facts  About  Southern  California 


The  eight  southernmost  counties  in  the  State,  Los  Angeles, 
Orange,  San  Bernardino,  Riverside,  San  Diego,  Ventura, 
Santa  Barbara  and  Imperial,  usually  referred  to  as  South- 
ern California,  constitute  a  miniature  empire.  Here,  with- 
in an  area  of  45,000  square  miles,  may  be  found  a  wonder- 
ful variety  of  scenery  and  climate.  Along  the  coast  line, 
which  extends  for  a  distance  of  275  miles,  it  is  cool  in  sum- 
mer, with  a  constant  breeze  from  the  broad  Pacific.  At  a 
distance  of  20  to  30  miles  from  the  ocean,  the  breeze  loses 
some  of  its  power,  but  there  is  still  sufficient  to  temper  the 
summer  heat.  Farther  inland,  on  the  great  plains  of  the 
Mojave  and  Colorado  valleys,  the  sun  rules  throughout  the 
year,  and  its  rays  in  summer  become  somewhat  too  torrid 
for  comfort,  although,  unlike  the  Eastern  weather,  the 
nights  are  almost  invariably  pleasant  and  cool. 

The  scenery  is  also  varied.  There  are  long  stretches  of 
valleys  and  mesas,  rolling  foothills,  and  higher  up  in  the 
mountain  ranges  deep  canyons,  precipitous  cliffs,  and  pine- 
clad  summits,  where  on  the  northern  slopes  snow  lingers 
well  into  the  summer.  They  have  an  area  about  equal  to 
that  of  Pennsylvania,  and  nearly  as  large  as  that  of  Eng- 
land. The  population  in  1880,  was  64,271,  or  71/2  per  cent, 
of  the  population  of  the  State.  In  1890  it  was  201,352,  or 
16  2-3  per  cent,  of  the  population  of  the  State.  Today  it 
is  over  500,000,  or  close  to  25  per  cent,  of  the  population  of 
California.  The  growth  of  this  section  has,  indeed,  been 
most  remarkable. 

One  of  the  most  important  enterprises  for  Los  Angeles 
county  yet  undertaken  is  the  big  breakwater  now  being  con- 
structed by  the  Federal  Government  at  San  Pedro,  for 
which  an  appropriation  of  $3,000,000  wais  made  by  Con- 

399 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

gress.  Work  is  almost  completed.  By  means  of  this  break- 
water the  depth  of  water  over  the  bar  will  be  so  increased 
as  to  permit  deep  draft  ocean-gfoing  vessels  to  come  to  the 
wharves,  and  Los  Ang-eles  will  then  be  able  to  compete  for 
its  share  of  the  growing  Oriental  trade.  An  appropriation 
has  also  been  secured  for  work  that  is  now  under  way  on 
the  inner  harbor.  Further  improvements,  such  as  dry- 
docks,  wharves  and  fortifications,  will  follow  the  harbor 
work.  The  Bay  of  Wilmington  has  a  great  future.  Other 
shipping  points  of  the  country  are  Port  Los  Angeles,  near 
Santa  Monica,  and  Redondo. 

There  are  few  in  the  United  States  that  have  had  such 
a  remarkable  and  varied  career  as  Los  Angeles,  the  chief 
city  of  Southern  California,  and  the  commercial  metropolis 
of  the  southwest  section  of  the  United  States. 

During  the  past  twenty  years  Los  Angeles  has  grown 
from  a  population  of  11,000  in  1880,  to  102,479  by  the 
census,  of  1900.  The  present  population  is  290,000.  There 
are  three  leading  features  that  have  contributed  to  such 
growth.     These  are  climate,  soil  and  location. 

The  original  name  of  the  pueblo  or  town  of  Los  Angeles, 
following  the  custom  that  then  prevailed  among  the  Latin 
races,  of  giving  religious  names  to  places,  was  Nuestra  Se- 
nora  de  Los  Angeles,  sometimes  written  Nuestra  Senora  la 
Reina  de  Los  Angeles — "Our  Lady,  the  Queen  of  the  An- 
gels. ' '  This  has  been  shortened  by  the  practical  Yankee  to 
Los  Angeles. 

Considering  that  twenty  years  ago  it  had  not  a  single 
paved  street,  Los  Angeles  has  made  remarkable  progress  in 
street  improvements.  There  ar  now  over  400  miles  of  grad- 
ed and  graveled  streets,  50  miles  of  paved  streets  and  250 
miles  of  sewer.  Los  Angeles  has  a  complete  sewer  system, 
including  an  outfall  sewer  to  the  ocean. 

At  night  Los  Angeles  presents  a  brilliant  appearance.  It 
was  the  first  city  in  the  United  States  to  entirely  abandon 
gas  for  street  lighting,  and  replace  it  b}^  electricity,  which 
was  done  over  twenty  years  ago,  and  it  is  now  one  of  the 

400 


I 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

best  lighted  cities  in  the  Union.  Many  of  the  lamps  are  on 
high  masts.  Seen  from  one  of  the  surrounding  hills,  the 
view  of  the  city  at  night  is  most  beautiful  and  striking. 
Broadway  and  Spring  street  are  now  lighted  their  entire 
length  by  clusters  of  electric  lights  on  handsome  iron  elec- 
troliers a  hundred  feet  apart,  paid  for  by  the  property-own- 
ers, the  city  supplying  the  "juice."  A  similar  lighting 
scheme  has  been  installed  on  Main  street  to  Tenth,  and  also 
on  Hill  street  to  Pico. 

The  merchants  of  Los  Angeles  do  a  large  business  with 
a  section  of  country  extending  from  the  eastern  limits  of 
Arizona  to  Fresno  on  the  north.  The  principal  articles  of 
export  are  fruits,  fresh  and  dried ;  potatoes  and  vegetables, 
beans,  wine,  and  brandy,  wool,  honey,  canned  goods,  sugar, 
Avheat,  corn,  barley,  petroleum  and  by-products  . 

The  banks  of  Los  Angeles  are  noted  throughout  the  coun- 
try for  their  solid  and  prosperous  condition,  with  deposits 
aggregating  $100,500,000.  The  clearings  of  the  Los  An- 
geles city  banks  for  the  year  1906  amounted  to  $580,000,- 
000.  Los  Angeles  has  been  leading  all  cities  of  the  United 
States  in  increase  of  bank  clearings.  The  strength  of  the 
Los  Angeles  banks  has  been  shown  by  the  success  with 
which  they  have  ridden  out  financial  storms  during  the 
past  fifteen  years. 

When  the  Isthmian  canal  is  constructed,  the  coast  of  Los 
Angeles  county  will  be  on  the  direct  course  of  steamships 
sailing  from  the  Atlantic  coast,  and  from  European  to  Asia- 
tic ports.  It  will  also  furnish  a  greatly  enlarged  market 
for  the  horticultural  products  of  this  section. 

The  street  railway  system  of  Los  Angeles  is  very  com- 
plete. There  is  probably  no  city  of  the  size  in  the  United 
States  that  has  such  a  modern  and  well  equipped  system, 
the  total  mileage  of  single  track  being  over  250  miles,  all 
electric.  There  are  suburban  lines  to  Santa  Monica,  by  two 
different  routes;  to  Redondo,  also  by  two  routes;  to  Long 
Beach,  to  Newport-,  to  Pasadena  and  Altadena,  to  San  Pedro 
to  Alhambra,  San  Gabriel  and  Monrovia,  to'Whittier,  to 
Glendale,  and  to  Santa  Ana.  Work  is  progressing  on  a  com- 

401 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

plete  system  of  suburban  lines,  which  will  take  in  all  the 
important  joints  within  sixty  mles  of  Los  Angeles,  includ- 
ins:  Pomona,  and  Riverside,  60  miles  distant,  forming  alto- 
gether a  network  of  over  700  miles  of  electric  railroad. 

There  are  a  dozen  public  parks  within  the  city  limits, 
aggregating  over  six  hundred  acres,  of  which  six  are  of  con- 
siderable size.  Elysian  park,  500  acres  in  area,  is  a  rem- 
nant of  the  thousands  of  acres  of  such  land  which  the  city 
formerly  owned.  Griffith  Park,  a  tract  of  3000  acres,  is  lo- 
cated about  a  mile  north  of  the  city  limits,  and  embraces  a 
varied  assortment  of  mountain,  foothill  and  valley  scenery. 

After  all  is  said,  however,  the  chief  attraction  of  Los  An- 
geles to  new  arrivals,  lies  in  its  beautiful  homes.  The  rare 
beauty  of  the  grounds  surrounding  the  attractive  homes  of 
Los  Angeles,  Pasadena,  and  other  Los  Angeles  county  cities 
is  a  constant  theme  of  admiration  on  the  part  of  Eastern 
visitors. 

It  costs  less  to  build  in  Southern  California  now  than  it 
did  in  the  early  days.  Again,  a  $10,000  residence  herq  is 
practically  as  good  as  a  $20,000  residence  in  the  East. 

The  most  notable  thing  that  has  ever  happened  to  the 
City  of  Los  Angeles  is  the  acquirement  by  the  city  of  wa- 
ter rights,  extending  for  many  miles  along  the  banks  of  the 
Owens  River,  in  Inyo  county.  This  water  will  be  brought 
to  the  city,  a  distance  of  220  miles,  by  means  of  an  aque- 
duct and  more  than  20  miles  of  tunnels.  This  will  give  Los 
Angeles  a  supply  of  pure  water  from  the  snow-clad  sides  of 
the  highest  mountain  in  the  United  States,  sufficient  for  a 
population  of  two  millions,  so  that  not  only  can  the  city  be 
amply  supplied  for  many  years,  but  there  will  be  enough 
surplus  to  irrigate  about  all  the  available  land  in  the  county. 
Not  only  this,  but  the  water  will  furnish  an  immense 
amount  of  power,  for  electric  lighting  and  for  factories. 
The  cost  of  the  enterprise  is  estimated  at  twenty-five  mil- 
lion dollars,  and  it  will  probably  require  about  four  years 
to  complete  it.  The  bonds  were  carried  by  a  vote  of  ten  to 
one. 

Southern  California  as  a  whole  has  a  climate  that  is  al- 

402 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

most  perfect.  A  remarkable  variety  of  climate  may  be 
found  even  within  a  couple  of  hours'  journey.  On  the  coast 
it  is  cool  in  summer,  with  occasional  fogs  at  night,  a  climate 
that  is  soothing  to  the  nervous.  Farther  inland  it  becomes 
warmer,  and  in  places  decidedly  hot  at  times,  though,  ow- 
ing to  the  dry  atmosphere,  a  temperature  of  one  hundred 
degrees  here  is  less  oppressiv  than  eighty  degrees  on  the 
Atlantic  coast.  Then  as  the  mountains  are  climbed,  cool, 
bracing  air  is  again  encountered.  On  a  winter's  day  the 
traveler  may  breakfast  by  the  seashore^  after  a  dip  in  the 
ocean,  lunch  amid  the  orange  groves  and  dine  in  the  snow 
fields  of  the  Sierra.  There  is  climate  here  to  suit  every 
one. 

There  is  no  winter  and  summer  in  Los  Angeles  county. 
They  are  represented  by  a  wet  and  dry  season.  The  former 
is  far  from  a  steady  downpour,  as  some  suppose.  The  rainy 
season  is  the  pleasantest  time  of  the  year. 

Land  may  be  purchased  in  Los  Angeles  county  on  easy 
terms.  Many  improved  places,  with  bearing  orchards  and 
comfortable  houses,  are  always  on  the  market,  there  being, 
here,  as  elsewhere,  a  considerable  number  of  citizens  who 
are  never  content  to  stay  very  long  in  one  place,  even- 
though  that  place  be  as  near  perfection  as  can  be  found  on 
earth.  For  those  who  have  the  means,  it  is  often  more  ad- 
visable to  purchase  one  of  these  improved  places  than  to 
buy  raw  land  and  improve  it. 

One  of  the  surprises  to  new  arrivals  in  this  section  is  the 
small  amount  of  land  that  is  needed  to  support  a  family. 
It  is  a  fact  that  many  families  in  Los  Angeles  county  not 
only  make  a  good  living  on  five  acres,  or  even  less,  of  irri- 
gated land,  carefully  tilled,  but  also  manage  to  lay  some- 
thing by  every  year  for  a  rainy  day.  In  such  cases  the  far- 
mer raises  most  of  the  food  products  that  are  consumed  by 
himself,  his  family  and  his  stock,  and  always  has  some- 
thing to  sell  when  he  comes  to  town.  Ten*  acres  are,  in  fact, 
about  all  that  one  man  and  his  family  can  attend  to,  if 
worked  to  their  full  capacity,  but  when  a  settler  begins  to 
depend  upon  hired  help,  the  profits    naturally    decrease. 

403 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

Fruit  trees  can  be  planted  on  the  land,  between  them  small 
fruits,  and  then  ao^ain  vegetables,  until  the  trees  become 
too  large.  Under  such  circumstances  there  is  a  constant 
succession  of  crops. 

The  development  of  the  horticultural  industry  in  Los  An- 
geles during  the  past  few  years  has  been  remarkable.  The 
most  impotant  horticultural  product  of  the  country  is  the 
orange.  Other  fruits  raised  in  Los  Ahgeles  county  are  the 
lemon,  almond,  fig,  prune,  apricot,  walnut,  peach,  pear  and 
berries. 

The  shipments  of  citrus  fruits— oranges  and  lemons— 
from  Southern  California  points  for  the  past  season 
amounted  to  about  30,(X)0  carloads.  A  large  proportion  of 
these  shipments  were  contributed  by  Los  Angeles  county. 
Deciduous  fruits  are  shipped  fresh,  canned,  dried  and 
crystallized.  An  active  demand  for  our  dried  fruit  has 
grown  up  in  Europe. 

Alfalfa,  which  is  largely  grown  for  hay,  is  a  most  valu- 
able forage  plant.  It  is  cut  from  three  to  six  times  a  year. 
Large  quantities  of  wheat  and  barley  are  raised.  Los  An- 
geles county  corn  sometimes  grows  to  a  height  of  twenty 
feet.  Pumpkins  have  been  raised  weighing  over  400 
pounds.  There  is  a  beet-sugar  factory  at  Alamitos.  Los 
Angeles  honey  is  celebrated  all  over  the  country. 

Hundreds  of  acres  are  devoted  to  the  cult&v&tion  of 
celery,  which  is  shipped  East  by  the  trainload.  Winter 
vegetables,  such  as  string  beans,  tomatoes,  green  peas  and 
chile  peppers,  are  shipped  to  the  North  and  East  during  the 
winter  months,  realizing  high  prices. 

Berry  culture  is  an  industry  which  brings  large  returns, 
and  one  does  not  have  to  wait  long  for  a  patch  of  berries  to 
bear.  The  principal  berries  raised  are  strawberries,  black- 
berries, dewberries  and  loganberries,  the  latter  a  cross  be- 
tween the  blackberry  and  the  raspberry,  attaining  great 
size.  The  chief  ^awberry  growing  sections  of  the  county 
are  between  Los  Angeles  and  Redondo  Beach,  and  around 
Glendale,  a  few  miles  north  of  Los  Angeles. 

Poultry  does  well  in  Southern  California,  when  it  is  giv- 

404 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

en  the  same  attention  it  receive  in  the  East.  Eggs  always 
command  a  good  price,  seldom  falling  below  20  cents  per 
dozen,  and  running  from  that  up  to  50  cents.  The  poultry 
business  is  an  attractive  and  profitable  one  in  Southern 
California  for  those  who  are  willing  to  give  it  the  close  at- 
tention that  it  requires.  Many  prosperous  residents,  who 
began  with  little  or  nothing,  could  not  have  made  head- 
way had  it  not  been  for  their  chickens. 

Ostriches  are  raised  here  for  their  plumes,  and  the  in- 
dustry is  profitable.  There  is  a  large  ostrich  farm  at  South 
Pasadena,  near  Los  Angeles,  also  one  in  the  city. 

Southern  California  is  an  ideal  section  for  live-stock. 
The  horses  raised  here  have  been  noted  for  their  speed  and 
endurance  from  the  time  of  the  early  Spanish  Settlers. 
Some  famous  thoroughbreds  have  been  raised  in  Southern 
California,  and  it  is  the  opinion  of  many  that  this  section 
will  one  day  rival  Kentucky  as  a  breeding  ground  for  fine 
horses.  The  mild  winters  are  a  great  advantage  in  this  in- 
dustry. 

During  the  past  couple  of  years  over  $1,000,000  has  been 
expended  by  the  city  on  public  school  buildings.  The  new 
Science  Hall,  for  the  Los  Angeles  High  School,  represents 
a  cost  of  $150,000.  The  value  of  the  school  property  of 
Los  Angeles  represents  almost  three  and  one-half  million 
dollars.  'The  combined  salaries  of  her  thousand  teachers 
reaches  a  total  of  almost  $1,000,000  annually.  The  number 
of  pupils  enrolled  is  over  35,000.  There  are  now  75  school 
buildings,  and  new  ones  are  continually  being  built,  to  ac- 
commodate the  ever-increasing  throng  of  children.  No  State 
provides  more  liberally  or  completely  for  their  training  and 
education.  As  evidence  of  this  the  California  schools  are 
famous  throughout  the  country  for  their  high  standard. 
The  State  ranks  third  in  the  number  of  pupils  in  high 
schools,  only  Massachusetts  and  Nebraska  surpassing  her, 
and  she  annually  disputes  with  the  former  State  for  first 
place  in  the  number  of  students  attending  college. 

In  the  Polytechnic  High  School,  Los  Angeles  has  an  in- 
stitution second  to  none  of  its  kind.    Housed  in  magnificent 

405 


THE     EMIGRANT. 

white  granite  and  marble  buildings  that  occupy  a  block  at 
the  head  of  Hope  street  on  Washington,  it  is  a  landmark 
which  immediately  attracts  attention. 

The  private  schools  of  Los  Angeles  are  many  and  varied. 
There  are  several  large  business  colleges  and  many  schools 
that  teach  singing,  music,  drawing,  elocution,  etc.,  exc- 
clusively;  also  military  academies  for  boys  and  collegiate 
schools  for  girls. 

As  Switzerland  has  been  termed  the  "playground  of 
Europe,"  so  Southern  California  can  with  propriety  be  call- 
ed the  playground  of  United  States.  The  pleasure  seeker 
finds  an  "embarrassment  of  riches"  in  Southern  California 
as  there  are  so  many  attractive  points  to  visit  between  the  sea 
coast  and  the  mountain  summits.  Then,  again,  in  Southern 
California  almost  every  day  in  the  year  is  a  "fine  day," 
so  that  the  visitor  is  not  restricted  in  the  time  which  he 
can  devote  to  making  himself  acquainted  with  country. 
Los  Angeles  county  offers  many  and  varied  attractions  to 
the  lover  of  nature,  the  mountain  climber,  the  hunter,  the 
naturalist,  the  botanist,  the  geologist,  and  the  antiquarian, 
as  well  as  those  who  come  here  simply  for  rest  and  recrea- 
tion. 

The  leading  seaside  resorts  of  Los  Angeles  county  are 
Santa  Monica,  Ocean  Park,  Venice,  Redondo  Beach,  Long 
Beach,  Terminal  Island,  and  Catalina  Island.  Santa 
Monica,  which  is  reached  in  less  than  an  hour  by  a  line  of 
steam  railroad  and  two  electric  roads,  is  a  well  improved, 
progressive  little  town,  with  beautiful  homes,  fine  beach, 
and  many  attractions  for  summer  visitors.  Ocean  Park, 
south  of  Santa  Manica,  is  built  up  with  neat  aottages  for  a 
couple  of  miles  along  the  beach.  Venice  is  a  most  unique 
and  attractive  resort.  Redondo  has  a  large  hotel;  a  wharf 
from  which  fine  fishing  may  be  had;  a  swimming  bath; 
and  a  pebble  beach.  North  of  Redondo  are  the  new  resorts 
of  Hermosa  and  Manhattan  with  a  fine  beach. "  San  Pedro 
is  more  of  a  shipping  port  than  a  seaside  resort. 

Santa  Catalina  is  a  picturesque,  mountainous  island 
about  thirty  miles  in  length  and  twenty-five  miles  from  the 

406 


THE    EMIGRANT. 

mainland.  The  water  here  is  remarkably  calm  and  clear, 
so  that  marine  growths  may  be  seen  at  a  depth  of  50  feet  or 
more.  There  is  fine  still-water  bathing,  big  fish  in  immense 
quantity,  which  attract  amateur  fishermen  from  all  over 
the  world,  stage  riding,  furnishes  accomodations  to  visitors, 
and  a  fine  band  plays  diiring  the  summer  season.  The  is- 
land is  conducted  as  an  ''up-to-date  winter  as  well  as 
summer  resort,  a  steamship  making  daily  trips  from  San 
Pedro.  Thousands  of  people  from  Southern  California, 
Arizona,  and  more  distant  points,  visit  Catalina  each  year, 
many  of  them  "camping  out"  for  several  months  in  tent 
cottages. 

There  are  many  openings  for  the  profitable  use  of  money 
in  this  4,000  square  miles  of  territory  embraced  in  Los 
Angeles  county,  with  a  present  population  of  little  over 
400,000.  Good  interest  is  paid  for  money,  on  real  estate 
loans,  from  5  to  8  per  cent  net  being  readily  obtained,  the 
former  on  inside  business  property,  and  the  latter  on  coun- 
try land. 

The  openings  for  manufacturing  enterprises  in  Los  An- 
geles are  many  and  varied.  Not  only  do  local  manufac- 
turers enjoy  the  advantage  of  cheap  fuel,  but  they  are  also 
protected  by  high  rates  of  transportation  on  manufactured 
good  from  the  East.  Then,  again,  the  mild  climate  of  this 
section  facilitates  manufacturing  enterprises,  rendering 
solid  and  expensive  buildings  unnecessary.  Also  labor 
troubles  are  here  comparatively  unknown. 

The  market  for  the  Los  Angeles  manufacturers  is  a  large 
one  and  is  constantly  being  extended.  Our  merchants  ship 
their  manufactured  products  to  Fresno,  in  Central  Cali- 
fornia, on  the  north,  and  eastward  as  far  as  New  Mexico 
and  Sonora,  also  to  Lower  California  and  to  Southern 
Nevada.  Of  late  our  manufacturers  have  been  extending 
their  field  of  operations  and  are  now  spreading  out  over 
the  whole  Pacific  Coast.  With  the  completion  of  the  Salt 
Lake  railroad,  a  large  and  important  new  field  is  opened 
up  in  Southern  Utah  and  Nevada. 

There  is  also  an  excellent  opening  for  mineral  reduction 

407 


THE     EMIGRANT. 

works,  there  having  been  a  great  development  of  the  min- 
eral fields  of  Southern  California  and  adjoining  territory 
during  the  past  few  years.  At  present  the  nearest  smelters 
are  at  San  Francisco  and  Salt  Lake  City.  Wilmington  is 
regarded  as  a  good  site  for  such  an  enterprise.  Another 
promising  field  for  manufacturing  enterprise  is  the  refin- 
ing of  crude  petroleum 

It  is  not  inappropriate  to  mention  here,  in  connection 
with  the  subject  of  manufacturing  in  Southern  California, 
that  there  has  been  established  in  the  San  Gabriel  Valley, 
a  few  miles  from  Los  Angeles,  a  model  manufacturing 
town,  called  Dolgeville,  after  the  well-known  town  of  that 
name  in  New  York.  It  contains  the  only  factory  in  the 
United  States  turning  out  finished  felt  products  from  the 
raw  wool. 

There  is  a  bureau  of  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  capital  and  opportunities  together. 
Inquiries  addressed  to  the  Chamber  will  receive  prompt 
attention. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of  development  in 
Los  Angeles  County  and  Southern  California  during  the 
past  few  years  has  been  the  greatly  increased  production 
of  petroleum.  For  more  than  thirty  years  petroleum  has 
been  produced  on  a  limited  scale  in  Los  Angeles  and  Ven- 
tua  counties,  but  it  is  only  within  the  past  few  years  that 
the  industry  has  assumed  great  importance.  Today  the 
petroleum  industry  of  Southern  California  is  attracting  the 
attention  of  capitalists  throughout  the  country. 

California  petroleum  is  all  produced  in  the  southern  part 
of  the  State.  The  producing  sections  of  the  country  are 
in  the  northern  part  of  Los  Angeles  city,  a  well-defined 
narrow  belt  running  across  the  city  in  a  southwesterly  and 
northeasterly  direction ;  at  Puente,  about  twenty  miles  east 
of  Los  Angeles;  at  Whittier,  at  Fullerton  and  at  Newhall, 
in  the  northern  part  of  the  county,  where  some  oil  of  ex- 
ceptionally light  grade  has  been  developed. 

Estimates  credit  the  petroleum  fields  of  the  State  with 
a  total  yield  during  1907  of  nearh7_4a£00,000  barrels. 


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